


Captured in Crystal

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crystal City, Colorado sure sounded idyllic…until the bodies started dropping and trouble, that old Winchester friend, arrived to make the boys' lives more interesting than they generally like. Post 1x12 "Faith" hurt/comfort/awesome!Sam/Dean</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This story was prompted by Shee 1. I'll include her original prompt at the end of the story so as not to spoil later events for my readers. I'm winging this one so no idea how many chapters we'll end up with! Suffice to say, it caught my attention because it's something I haven't written before. :D Thank you Shee 1! I hope you enjoy this!

**Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678** :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.

_**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!_ _**  
** _ **_~Reviews are Love~_ **

**_ _ **

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

**Chapter 1**

"I'm tellin' ya, Ranger. It's right over here, down by the water! Come on!" Joe yelled and turned to see Ranger Grady following with that look on his face, like he thought Joe was making things up again. "You'll see. It's just like the others."

"Joe, it ain't that I don't believe you." Grady rolled his eyes and smiled fondly. "But the last three times you dragged me out here to see a body, there wasn't a damn thing to see."

Joe waved a hand at him dismissively and pushed through a screening of bushes and trees below the old mill. "S'right here!"

The ranger moved past Joe to look down at the river and his eyes widened in surprise. "Holy crap, Joe. You actually meant it this time." The body of some poor soul lay washed up on the rocky edge of the shallow river. Small trees and brush had been flattened around it, and his legs still dangled into the cold water. "Damn."

"Told ya." Joe grinned and watched while the ranger moved down and knelt by the body. "Now you'll listen to me when I tell ya' somethin'."

"Ok, Joe. Ok." Grady turned his attention to the body, putting fingers to the cold, slippery skin of the man's throat for form's sake. There was no pulse, as he knew there wouldn't be, and he shook his head. "You poor bastard." The man wore jeans and a sweater that was partially torn from his torso, and his face, along with what other skin he could see, was covered in bruises, as if someone had beaten him viciously over every inch of his body.

"He's like the others, ain't he?" Joe said excitedly. "I knew he was. Don't have no ID on him, though. Checked his pockets." He raised his hands when the ranger looked sternly up at him. "I swear, ranger! All I did was check his pockets! Didn't take nothin'."

"Uh huh." The ranger shook his head and bent over the body again, knowing that Joe had likely stolen whatever the poor guy had on him; Joe was like that.

"Honest. I didn't take a thing. S'wrong to take from the dead," Joe said solemnly and then frowned. "Whoop. Gotta answer a call, you get my drift. Back in a sec!" He grinned at the ranger's disgusted glance and headed back into the trees, unzipping his pants. He relieved himself on a defenseless birch tree with a happy groan and heard the ranger shout. "Hang on! Gotta give 'er a shake!" Joe chuckled and tucked himself back in his pants. He jogged back to the river, pulling up his zipper and pushed through the bushes. "What'cha need, rang…ranger?" Joe looked around, but not only was the dead body gone…so was the ranger. "Ranger Grady?" Joe stared in surprise and confusion. "Where'd you go? How'd you move the body? Ranger Grady!" His only answer was the lapping and splashing of the river as it went by. "Shee-it." Joe said softly and backed away from the shore. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and some primal instinct told him to run and run fast.

"Sure hope you's just hidin' somewhere, ranger 'cause I'm outta here!" Joe turned and ran back into the forest away from the river that seemed to have developed a habit of collecting passers-by.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam watched his brother through the motel room window. Dean had the hood on the Impala up and had been tinkering with it for two hours. Sam sighed. His big brother had been in a weird head-space since their run-in with the faith healer a week before. He took a shuddering breath, calming the knee-jerk panic he still felt when he thought about how close he'd come to losing Dean. He was still quietly furious with their father for not turning up. His eldest son had literally been at death's door and the man hadn't even called. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and through his dark hair, pushing the anger and the fear away. Dean wasn't handling any of it well, least of all that he felt responsible for Layla not being healed. Sometimes it was easy to understand how even something as evil as what had happened could be tempting. Sam carried that guilt and consoled himself with the knowledge that saving her would have meant sacrificing his brother. That was not an option. Though he felt remorse about the guy who had died to save Dean before they knew that Roy's "power" was actually a bound reaper; in moments when Sam was totally and brutally honest with himself…part of him was eternally grateful that he HADN'T known.

He looked over to his laptop and nodded. His attempts to draw Dean out of his funk had been fruitless and met with anger most of the time, but a job might do what he could not and take Dean's mind off it for a little while. Sam put an easy smile on his face and prepared to try and 'handle' Dean again. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and went outside.

"Hey, Dean." Sam went over and held out a beer as Dean leaned up from under the hood. "Think I found us a job."

Dean took the beer, twisted the cap off and flicked it across the parking lot before looking at his little brother with a brow raised. "A real job or is this another jackalope?"

Sam rolled his eyes and gave him a bitch face. "There was concrete lore on that one. It's not my fault."

"Uh huh." Dean smirked lightly and turned to lean against the car. Sam had sent them into the sewers under a Montana town four days ago for what he convinced Dean was an actual jackalope and turned out to be someone's lost, mangy St. Bernard. On the plus side, the owner/canine reunion was filled with tears of happiness and the huge, filthy dog practically quivering in delight at being reunited with its person so it wasn't a total loss. "Go on."

"Alright, so get this." Sam took a swig of his own beer and leaned against the wall of the motel with a smile. "Four bodies have turned up along the river in Crystal City, Colorado. All beaten, but not to death, and all drowned." He raised his hand to stop him when Dean opened his mouth. "There've actually been nine bodies reported, but it seems they have a habit of going missing if they aren't moved fast, like something's coming back to collect its dead."

"Ok; that's hinkey but not necessarily our sort of thing. Keep going." Dean took another swig of his beer and crossed his arms. "You must have something better than that."

Sam nodded. "Yesterday a ranger was taken along with another body right under the nose of the guy who found the body. And when I did some digging into the history of the area…" He raised both brows. "…Crystal City is an abandoned mining town next to the Devil's Punchbowl, and the Hopi Indians that lived there a few hundred years ago had a legend about a creature that took its victims, beat them, and drowned them."

"Huh." Dean nodded and took another draw on his beer while Sam waited. "Ok, yeah. Sounds like there's something nasty up there that needs to be ganked. It got a name?"

"Ahuizotl."

"Ahooey-what?"

Sam snorted at his brother. "Ahuizotl. It's actually Aztec in origin, I think. I need to dig into the lore some more; figure out how we kill it."

Dean finished off his beer and turned to drop the hood in place. The car didn't really need any work as much as he'd been fiddling with it, but it took his mind off things…of himself and exactly how it was he was still walking and talking. He frowned, dropping the hood carefully in place and sighed. Sam had been trying his best to manage him since his not-so-miraculous healing, and Dean couldn't figure out how to explain to him that he felt like he'd cheated…like he should be dead, no matter what that might do to Sam.

"Dean?"

Dean turned to look at him, realizing he'd been quiet too long and shook his head. "Let's pack up. We can be there by nightfall if we leave now."

Sam bit his lip, watching Dean walk past him into the room and blew out a breath. "Dammit," he whispered and followed his brother inside.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean stood in the little town of Marble, Colorado and glared at his brother. "You want me to do what?"

Sam raised his hands. "Dude, we can't take the Impala up the road to Crystal City. She'd never make it." He hadn't warned his brother of this little hitch, fearing exactly this reaction. "Whole families in ATV's have gone off the cliff and died around the Devil's Punchbowl. The Impala would never get through there."

"My baby can handle a damn mountain road," Dean snarled and leaned back against his car as if protecting it. "You know how I feel about people makin' aspersions at her."

Sam covered his face for a moment to smother a laugh before looking up again. "Breaking out the big words. Wow. Did that hurt?"

"Suck it, Sam."

"Stop whining, already," Sam said and gave up, laughing as his brother landed a punch to his arm. "Jerk."

Dean glared at him again but had to admit, he didn't want to risk the Impala on a road that dangerous. He wasn't sure he even wanted to risk them on it. He groaned, rolling his eyes and stepped away from his car. "Bitch."

"Come on. The guy at the diner over there rents all-terrain vehicles, and this time of year, we can have our pick." Sam grinned, pleased at some of the old humor returning to Dean's face and started down the street. The air was chill as they walked. Winter came swiftly this high in the mountains and it wouldn't be many more weeks before Crystal city was snowed in. "The locals - and there's only, like, eight of them up there - they all bug out at the end of summer, so we'll pretty much have the area to ourselves."

Dean's brows went up. "So if shit goes sideways, help ain't exactly close at hand."

Sam shook his head. "No. But there's a whole abandoned town up there. Well, I say 'town." He snorted. "It's more like four long buildings and a couple sheds, but the guy I spoke to at the diner there, he says they leave medical supplies and stuff up there in case people get stranded or lost in the winter while the roads are out."

"Ok, better." Dean looked at the line of four vehicles as they stepped up onto the diner's porch and decided a couple of them looked decent. He glanced up at the sky before they stepped inside and decided they were going to wait until tomorrow. It was too close to dark to risk such a dangerous drive in the dark.

"Hey, Sam. This that brother you mentioned?"

Dean looked over as a middle-aged man with a head of curly blond hair and glasses smiled at them from behind a counter. "Older and better lookin'," Dean said with an easy smile and made him laugh.

"I'm Ethan. Now, I know you boys aren't plannin' on drivin' up the mountain tonight." Ethan smiled. "Happens I got a room you can borrow for the night out back. I rent it durin' tourist season, but we're past that so you go on and stay 'til tomorrow."

"Thank you." Sam smiled and shook his hand. "Now, about the car we're going to use."

"Car, hell. Those things I got out there are pretty much tanks on four wheels." Ethan chuckled and stepped out from behind the counter. "Come on. Let's find ya' one and then I'll feed ya'."

Sam hung back and let Dean talk 'car' with Ethan, smiling fondly for his gear-head brother. He looked around the little town and at the mountains all around them. It was beautiful, and if either of them liked camping, it would have been a hell of a place to wander off into for a while. He snorted softly. They'd spent too many colds nights in the dark in the woods for a job, usually on edge and often injured, to ever consider it a way to relax.

"Sammy." Dean came over and slapped his brother's arm lightly. "Dude says he makes homemade cherry pie."

Sam chuckled at his brother's grin and followed Ethan back into the diner. "You're gonna make yourself sick, aren't you?"

Dean nodded and rubbed his hands together. "Only if I'm lucky."

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam jerked awake and sat up in the darkened room. A noise had woken him and he looked around the room, his eyes coming to settle on his brother. Dean twitched in the moonlight from the small window over the beds, and, as Sam watched, his brother gave a strangled moan of distress. It broke his heart a little. He wasn't used to Dean being the one tormented in his sleep, and he understood now what made Dean look at him with that tight, worried expression some mornings.

"Dean," Sam said softly. He swung his legs off the bed and reached across the space between to tap his brother's shoulder. He stayed carefully out of range, knowing full-well how Dean could sometimes wake from a nightmare, and sure enough, Dean lurched awake on a gasp with his favorite knife coming out from under his pillow defensively. "Dean. Take it easy."

"Sammy?" Dean blinked a few times and slid the knife back. He rubbed a hand over his face, a little mortified to feel the damp of tears there and relieved the darkness would hide them. Layla and the rawhead had followed him into his dreams again. "You ok?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean. **I'm** fine." He slid his legs back under the blanket and flopped back.

"Don't wanna talk about it," Dean said, cutting Sam off before he could try to have another heart-to-heart. It wasn't Dean's style, and airing his own feelings didn't do anyone any good anyway. They weren't important.

"I wasn't going to say anything, Dean," Sam said softly and rolled away. He sat back up quickly at the sound of shouting outside. "What the hell?"

Dean groaned and got up. "It's only, like, six in the morning. S'too early for this shit." He shoved the curtain aside to look out and whistled softly. "Get dressed. I think this is us."

Sam climbed out of bed and looked for himself while Dean flicked the light on. He blinked, adjusting his eyes and watched the parade of townspeople following behind a large, big-wheeled jeep as it drove into the center of town and out of sight around the diner. "Damn. Has to be another body."

Dean nodded and yanked his jeans on. He dragged a shirt over his head and was out the door along with his brother. They jogged around the diner to the front as the vehicle came to a stop and went to stand next to the diner's owner. "Ethan. What's going on?" Dean asked.

Ethan shook his head sadly. "They found the ranger. Grady." He nodded to two boys, looking barely old enough for college who climbed down out of the jeep. "They were swimming in the punchbowl and said…they said his body came right over the falls at them." He shrugged miserably. "Just like the others, and…they said his arm…he's missin' an arm like it was tore right off."

"God," Sam breathed sorrowfully as several townsfolk pulled a shrouded body out of the back of the jeep. He met his brother's eyes and got a short nod; Dean remembered him saying the local ranger had gone missing.

Ethan turned to look at them. "Not so sure you boys oughta go up there."

Dean smiled and patted his shoulder. "We'll be fine." He waved a hand and Sam came after him as they headed back toward the diner. "We should pack up and get moving. It'll be daylight by the time we hit the punchbowl and maybe we can find tracks or something.""

Sam nodded. "Hope there's no one else up on the trail now."

They pulled out of town in the oversized, retired army jeep Dean had chosen. Dean had a small, happy smile on his face as they headed up the mountain road and the big tires ate up the dirt with the suspension bouncing them gently along at each turn. "You know I'd never trade in my baby, but this is fun."

Sam chuckled and stretched his legs out. He loved the Impala too but it was damn nice to, for once, have the room to actually stretch without bumping his knees on the underside of the dash. The sun was only just starting to rise as they gained elevation and followed the weather-beaten signs to the Devil's Punchbowl. "You know they call it the Devil's Punchbowl because of moonshiners?"

Dean couldn't spare him a glance as he navigated a particularly steep part of the trail but he snorted. "Not the actual devil?"

"Moonshiner's were said to do the devil's work." Sam smirked. "There used to be stills all up in these mountains, and they'd come to the Punchbowl to get fresh water for them."

"How…do you even know this stuff?" Dean chuckled. "Geek."

Sam glanced over and saw his brother's eyes wandering the countryside and he laughed. "You're hoping we find a still now, aren't you?"

"Shuddup." Dean tossed back at him and smiled ruefully, because he'd been thinking exactly that. The banter dropped away as the land began to drop away along one side of the trail and rise up on the other. The all-terrain jeep quickly became a tight fit between the two, and Dean spent a nerve-wracking amount of time easing it around sharp turns, sometimes barely keeping all four wheels on the ground. He eased it up into a wide area along the top of the Devil's Punchbowl, and both he and Sam heaved sighs of relief. "Hope that's the worst of it. Wow."

Sam shook his head. "It's not. It's the next section leading up to Crystal City where people routinely go off-road and die."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes as he shoved his door open. "Awesome."

Sam reached into the back and pulled out two silver long-knives. He climbed down out of the jeep and handed his brother one of the knives. His research had been a little vague on killing an ahuizotl except for it being weak against silver, and, at some point, its heart needed to be burned.

"You loaded?" Dean asked him, patting a hand over his own pistol at his back, loaded with silver rounds.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. The waterfall's over there, I think." He gestured toward the punchbowl's rim where he could hear water rushing. They strode carefully along the edge, looking at the hard, rocky ground as they went for any sign of tracks, human or otherwise.

Dean stepped a little closer and took a look out and over the edge. It was a good twenty feet and just high enough to make his fear of heights kick in. "Whoa."

Sam grabbed his elbow and tugged him back. "If you fall over, I'm not fishing you out."

Dean snorted and started walking again. "You will too." He grinned. "I have the keys."

Sam chuckled and walked as wide of him as he could to cover more ground. He wished they could have taken the marginally safer road up to Crystal but it didn't pass the punchbowls. He stopped as he reached the edge of a narrow creek, a run off from the Crystal River, he knew, and eyed the haphazard stone bridge that had been laid across it. "Well, that doesn't inspire confidence."

"It's lasted this long." Dean shrugged and knelt at the edge of the creek where it gushed over the side. He dipped a hand in the water and shivered. "Crap, that's cold."

"Runoff from higher up the mountain," Sam said and looked up at the mountains looming above them where snow had already settled in the high passes. "Gonna get damn cold at night up here."

"Lucky for us there's a whole empty town waitin' on us, then." Dean shook his head and stood. "There's nothing here. Wherever the ranger's body went in the water, it wasn't here. Come on. We'll check the other side of the creek and then head up." He went to the stone bridge and across, jumping up and down in a couple places to check its stability and was relieved when it didn't shift even a little.

Sam chuckled and went past him, hopping down to the ground. "Some animal activity here. Thinks these are….wolf prints."

Dean came up beside him and knelt, tracing the outline of the paw prints with his fingers. "Yep. Big ones. Eyes open, dude."

"No, Dean. Really?" Sam rolled his eyes with a smirk and headed down the bank of the creek toward the punchbowl while Dean followed it the other way. He reached the lip of the small cliff and the waterfall and sighed, finding nothing. He heard a loud growl from somewhere behind him and spun to find Dean backing slowly toward him twenty feet away. "Dean?"

"No sudden moves, Sam," Dean said softly. He slid the silver long knife into his belt and took out the pistol. It was loaded with silver rounds, which would be just as lethal as iron, but only at a close range. Ahead of him, two large, gray wolves slinked out of the trees with their bodies held low to the ground and snarling. "Think I know what happened to the ranger's arm."

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Holy crap," Sam whispered and drew his own gun. He moved away from the edge of the cliff and went to Dean's side, taking careful aim at one of the wolves. "They're gonna have to get a lot closer if we're gonna do anything but piss them off with these rounds."

"Just need to scare them away," Dean took aim at the wolf on his left. "Aim for the chest. Won't do much damage, but it'll sting for sure. They think we're too much trouble to eat, they'll take off."

Sam rolled his shoulders to lessen the tension and took careful aim. He didn't want to kill them. He knew the wolves would kill them in an instant if they could, but they were just following their nature and it didn't stop them from being beautiful. "On three." They counted silently in their heads and Sam pulled the trigger, hearing Dean's gun go off at the same moment, perfectly in time with each other. He flinched internally at each puff of hair thrown up from the wolves chests as the silver bullets impacted with them. They stopped their advance, rearing back with angry, surprised howls, and the brothers shot twice more into their soft underbellies. The wolves tumbled over each other and escaped back into the trees with yipping calls to each other.

"Shit." Dean breathed and took a few steps after them, keeping his gun up in case they decided to come back and try again.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and lunged, tackling his brother around the shoulders and taking them both to the ground.

Dean grunted with the impact and then saw a dark gray blur shoot over them. He felt the wind of its passing and watched the largest gray wolf he'd ever seen skid to a stop on the rough, rocky ground and spin with a snarl. He shoved Sam to the side and brought up his gun that he'd thankfully kept his grip on. Dean fired into its chest three times, and finally the wolf turned and ran, deciding they were too much trouble.

"You good, dude?" Dean asked, sitting up and looked over at his brother.

"Ow." Sam groaned and rolled to his back holding his left elbow with his face screwed up in pain. "Hit my funny bone…and it's not funny."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it is." He got to his feet and pulled his brother up with him. He rolled out his shoulders and shook his head. "Could'a had a career in football, Sammy. Damn."

Sam shook his arm to dispel the lingering pain in his elbow and rolled his eyes. "Can we go before they come back and eat us?"

"Good idea." Dean stayed at his brother's side as they crossed back over the stone bridge and they didn't put their weapons up until they were safely back in the jeep. "I would have thought all the tourists would keep wolves further out than this."

Sam buckled into his seat and shrugged. "It's probably been quiet up here long enough that they've come back down now that summer's over."

Dean grudgingly pulled his own seatbelt on, knowing they were in for a drive over even more dangerous terrain. He eased the jeep up onto the stone bridge and across to the other side and was relieved that it held up under the weight. "How far to Crystal City?"

"Couple hours." Sam dug in the bag at his feet and came out with a topographical map of the area. He unfolded it while the jeep bounced and rolled over the uneven terrain to have another look. "There are a lot of old mine shafts up there too. The ahuizotl could be hiding in one of them, but the lore says it likes water so…"

"We'll start with the water." Dean shrugged. "Why go cave diving if we don't have to?"

Sam nodded. "And all the victims have turned up on the river bank, of course…" he stopped and bit his bottom lip while he considered the map again.

"Dude." Dean reached across and slapped his brother's sore elbow. "You forgot to share with the class again, geek?"

"Ow, dammit." Sam glared at him and rubbed his elbow. "I was just thinking, the Crystal River runs really close to one of the caves. We might have to go spelunking after all." He groaned when Dean grinned. "Don't."

"Spelunking."

"Dean."

"Come on, man. You know it sounds dirty."

"You're a five-year-old sometimes, you know that, Dean?"

"Whatever, bitch. I'm funny."

Conversation quickly died as the jeep trail on the other side of the punchbowls came into view, steep, tree-lined cliff towering up on side of the rocky, dirt track and a fifty-foot, sheer drop off on the other. It curved and wound around the side of the valley back into the mountains, and it took all of Dean's concentration to not let the tires on Sam's side of the car slip off. He smirked, seeing that his little brother was leaning in toward him away from the window and what had to be a dizzying view down the side.

"You were right," Dean said at the halfway point. "If we'd tried this at night, we'd be dead."

Sam nodded silently and swallowed around the tension. "On the way out, at least you get to look at it instead of me."

Dean snorted but quickly put all his focus back on what there was of the road as he negotiated another narrow turn. It took a half hour to get across the treacherous expanse, and both men heaved sighs of relief when the jeep was back on safer terrain.

"Maybe we can walk out." Sam said with a laugh.

Dean chuckled. "Don't like my driving, princess?" He took the punch to his shoulder in good humor and gave the jeep some gas, now that he safely could. The forest around the hard packed road was thick and held out what little warmth of the day there had been. Dean didn't argue when Sam reached over and turned on the heater as warm air blew across his face.

Less than an hour later, they emerged from the forest into a small, flat valley with the dirt road winding across past several long, log cabin houses that had seen better days. They were weathered and dark with roofs sagging in the middle, and the mountains rose up, snow-covered behind them. A worn, wooden sign with the word 'Crystal' stood welcome as Dean pulled up and parked beside the first of the buildings. Several small, square metal signs had been nailed to the door with various symbols for first-aid, water, food, and a picture of a radio.

"Looks like this is home for now." Dean turned off the jeep and hopped down to the ground to look around. It was a narrow valley, surrounded by forest, and he had a brief, irrational urge to challenge his brother to a race across it even as he knew Sam's ridiculously long-legged stride would keep him from winning. He grinned.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why do you look so happy?" Sam asked as his brother came around the car with a cheerful smile.

Dean shrugged and grabbed the bag Sam tossed him from the back. "No reason. Let's check this place out."

Sam's brows went up. "Uh, ok. You're weird."

"And you're funny lookin', but I don't say anything," Dean shot back and went to the cabin door with a laugh. He pushed the door open and blinked, momentarily blinded by the gloom inside.

"Must be a light switch. The cabins are supposed to have power until the end of October, I think," Sam muttered and went in around his brother, feeling along the wall. "Got it." Sam flipped the switch and blinked owlishly until his eyes adjusted. "Whoa."

"What the hell?" Dean stared in surprise. The interior of the cabin looked as though a whirlwind had blown through. Three cots were upturned in a jumble against one wall, boxes had been torn open and their contents strewn across the floor, emergency rations, bottles of water, juice boxes and trail bars, making the floor a minefield as Dean stepped through the mess and put a hand to the gun at his back out of reflex.

"Those…are not human." Sam pointed to a section of the wooden floor liberally dusted with a crushed bag of flour and the strange prints that had been left in it. They circled the length of the cabin once and vanished around a solid-backed bookshelf. Sam followed the tracks and drew his gun as he rounded the shelf, feeling Dean solidly at his back and blew out a breath. "Damn." A large hole had been smashed through the wall of the cabin with the logs burst inward toward them and the floury prints led outside.

"So, what? The hooey-whatsit came in for a snack?" Dean looked around the cabin with a hunter's eyes and didn't like their odds of being safe inside asleep. "Looks like we're sleeping in shifts if we have to stay here tonight."

Sam knelt by the hole to look more closely at the tracks and shook his head. "I don't know if this was the ahuizotl. The lore says it resembles a large, upright lizard with a prehensile tail." He tapped his finger along one of the tracks. "There are five toes here. More like, I dunno, an oversized person?"

"A person punched a hole through the wall? I don't think so." Dean sighed and put his gun up. "Come on. Let's sort this mess out."

"We can block the hole with the shelf." Sam shrugged as he stood. "Won't keep whatever it is out, but it'll give us some warning if it tries to come back in."

They spent the better part of an hour restoring order to the interior of the cabin, collecting supplies and trying to give themselves a space to defend themselves if something big and nasty decided to come for a visit.

"Shit," Dean groaned, coming up from a pile of smashed boxes. "We won't be calling for help." He held up a large, smashed ham radio and let it drop with a clatter. "That's just awesome."

Sam dumped the last of the scattered food supplies into an empty box and put it on the table he'd salvaged. "The building down at the other end of the row had a shed or something on the outside. It looked intact. We should stash some supplies in there in case whatever this was comes back while we're gone."

Dean's irritation level rose as they packed up some of the supplies and rations and had to waste valuable daylight stashing them where they would hopefully be safe. He wanted to find the damn monster and kill it already. He was itching for the hunt…for the fight. He knew Sam had never felt the joy of it like he had, and Dean wished his brother could. He smiled in anticipation as they were finally as prepared as they could get, armed and ready. "Where to?"

"Nearest point of the river is that way." Sam pointed and they started walking toward the edge of the little valley and a path into the forest not yet overgrown. "Leads to the old Crystal Mill." He smiled. "It's considered one of the most scenic views in the country."

"Aw, and me without my camera." Dean rolled his eyes humorously at his brother.

Sam snorted. "Would it kill you to enjoy a view once in a while?"

"That bar we were at two nights ago? I enjoyed the hell out of the view there." Dean whistled, waggled his brows and used his hands to sketch a curvy shape in the air as they stepped into the trees.

Sam laughed and shivered as the temperature noticeably dropped in the shade. "Not the kind of view I meant." He adjusted the silver long knife hanging at his hip and ducked under a low branch. Like his brother, he had his gun in his hand; better safe than sorry if there were already hungry wolves in the area, let alone a creature that may or not spend time on land.

Dean pulled his jacket more tightly around himself with the cold bite in the air while they walked and kept his eyes watching through the gaps of the trees around them. He cocked his head as he heard the sound of rushing water growing stronger and frowned. "I hear us and I hear the water. Know what I don't hear?"

Sam paused, letting Dean walk up beside him and take the lead and listened. His brows rose. "No birds or insects. That's not good."

"Good for us." Dean said softly. "Means your critter is probably nearby and maybe we won't have to sleep in that cabin tonight." He started forward again and glanced back with a nod, finding Sam searching the trees to either side warily and watching behind them. The water remained the only sound aside from the sighing of a cold, pre-winter breeze from up in the higher elevations.

They came out along the side of the Crystal River with the aging, brown hulk of the old mill on a rocky rise to their left and Dean frowned. "This is a river? It's more like a glorified creek."

Sam chuckled. "Come back in spring when the winter runoff floods it." It did look like a wide stream. It was shallow and the rocky bottom showed through the clear water as it flowed past toward a short waterfall. Sam walked carefully on the rock strewn ground back toward the drop-off. "This is all bedrock here. It's why the water's so clean."

"Awesome. So, when you have a graceful moment and fall, you're guaranteed to break something, huh, Sasquatch?" Dean grinned at the finger his brother flipped him and looked up at the mill. The old, wood building seemed to be perched precariously on an outcropping of bedrock. It looked like a strong wind should tumble it off with its glassless windows and broken open door. He followed his brother and shrugged. "Not much of a waterfall."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Enough of one to power a water wheel." He sighed. "Well, when there was a water wheel." He nodded to the structure that climbed the rock face from the water up the mill that had once powered the mill wheels inside. "I thought they were renovating it."

"Doesn't look like they've gotten around to it." Dean climbed carefully up to the old mill and stuck his head in the door. Sunlight shone in the open windows above him and illuminated the space that was smaller than he'd thought it would be. The only thing inside were two old, stone mill wheels sitting motionless in the center of the room. The gears that had once moved them could be seen in the rafters overhead, but the drive shafts were long gone with age or vandalism.

"Dean?" Sam called and had his eyes trained across the little river and his gun up.

"You see something?" Dean climbed back down quickly and followed his brother's line of sight. "I don't see anything."

Sam shook his head. "Something moved, but I didn't get a good look at it."

"Ok, let's go. Walk soft, little brother." Dean raised his own gun and splashed down into the water. "Shit!" he gasped as the frigid water surged around his calves and made him shudder. "Ok, that's…that's c-cold."

Sam's whole body shook in reaction with the icy touch and he strode quickly across, wishing he could dry out his pants and shoes. Instead, he was reduced to trying not to squelch and shake while they walked. "Should have brought waders," he said softly and got an answering nod from his brother. Leaving the bank for the dense forest dropped the already cool temperature again, and his feet felt as though they were going numb while they walked.

They eased through the trees, silent together as they both listened for any sound that didn't belong. Sam watched the ground for anymore of the strange tracks they'd found in the cabin or the tracks of ahuizotl. He assumed it would be three- or four-toed with its lizard-like characteristics. He jerked his head up at Dean's soft hiss and saw his brother pointing at the ground ahead of him. Sam jogged quietly up beside him and nodded; three-toed prints.

Dean grinned. He tapped his chest and pointed to the right.

Sam nodded and followed the tracks while Dean moved off to flank him through the trees. The tracks curved around through the trees, taking the wider gaps as though the creature was big enough to need the extra space and that worried Sam a little. They really had no clear idea just how large the ahuizotl was.

Dean felt the moment something changed in the air. He looked over and saw the hitch in his brother's stride that said he felt it too. He picked up his pace and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise with the feeling they were being watched as Sam passed behind a wide tree twenty feet away. It made him twitch, losing sight of his brother. He scowled and moved faster, wanting to reach Sam for no reason he could really define, just an intuitive sense that he needed to get to him NOW that he had learned not to ignore years ago.

"Dean!" Sam shouted his brother's name as a massive, glistening, scaled creature burst from the cover of the tall bushes to his left. The ahuizotl was bigger than he'd thought. He could see powerful muscles shifting beneath the scales as it rushed him. Sam brought his gun around reflexively and fired three times before it crashed into him. He heard Dean shouting his name as the ahuizotl breathed rancid breath into his face and lifted him in powerful, clawed hands.

"SAM!" Dean rounded the wide tree and slid to a stop. He raised his gun as he took in the sight of Sam held in the clawed hands of a giant lizard with rows of spikes visible down its back. He snarled in his fear and anger, unable to take a shot without the risk of hitting his brother. "NO!" He screamed it as the creature suddenly threw Sam to the side as though he weighed nothing. Dean watched Sam slam into a tree with a sickening thump and slide motionless to the ground. Dean was torn between reaching his brother and the ahuizotl that now had its sights set on him with Dean now posing the only threat. "Son of a bitch!" Dean fired into the scaled chest and it didn't even seem to slow the creature as it barreled at him. He shot one round into the ahuizotl's eye, making the creature scream in a rage, and it was on him, smashing him down and rolling him across the rocky ground. Dean scrambled to get back to his feet, ignoring the bruises he could already feel, and looked up in time to watch the beast's heavily weighted tail swinging down at him.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean woke with a strangled cry as his leg was pulled viciously and icy water closed around him. His head slid under the surface as his back scraped the rocky bottom, and he only barely managed to stop from sucking in a mouthful of water. He flailed his arms, bumping and scraping, and pushed, sucking in a surprised breath when his head broke the surface. He blinked to clear his vision and fell back into the water as his leg was pulled again. He fought to get his head back above the water and gasped in another precious breath and this time managed to get a look. The ahuizotl had his leg wrapped in one wide, scaly hand and was dragging him through the shallow lake below Crystal Mill.

Dean took as deep a breath as he could manage in a chest that felt unnaturally tight and let himself slide back under the water as he fumbled at his side to find his silver long-knife. His hand closed around the hilt and he tugged it free in a rush. He held it like it was a lifeline, planted his free foot in the rocky bottom, and surged up while the creature pulled his other leg. Dean came up swinging and sliced the silver blade through the meaty forearm of the ahuizotl. It screamed and dropped his leg as it fell away holding its arm, and Dean got a brief look at one darkened eye from his last shot before he fell back into the water.

He came up spluttering, splashing and crawling back into the wide basin at the bottom of the falls. "Shit," Dean gasped and went for the old water wheel support as fast as his abused, thoroughly chilled body would let him. He ached to get back to his brother, still hearing the sound of him striking the tree. He shoved the knife back through his belt, wrapped shaking, cold-pale fingers around the wood at the bottom of the water wheel support, and started to climb. Dean heard the creature roaring its rage out behind him and tried to climb faster.

"Dammit," He grunted as his left leg, which had been held by the creature, refused to cooperate, his foot slipping off one of the old planks for a moment. He fought his way higher up and risked a glance down. The creature's Godzilla-like head weaved around as it searched Dean out with its one remaining eye, and he knew the moment it saw him because it roared and leaped back into the lake. Dean scrambled up the framework, hearing the thing splashing below him and reached the top as the structure he clung to shook violently. He rolled off the wooden planks onto the bedrock holding the mill and used the bottom of a doorway above him to pull himself up. The ahuizotl roared from the water below and then sprang off to the side, slamming into the rock wall in a stumble as it ran.

"Shit. Shit." Dean cussed in a near panic and dragged himself inside the empty mill. He flopped back onto the musty wood floor for a moment and tried to catch his breath. His whole body hurt. Dean leaned up and tugged his shirts up to look at his chest with a groan; a myriad of bruises were already starting to appear, as though the creature had started tenderizing him while he was unconscious. "Crap." He rolled to his side and gained his knees with a massive effort. He could hear the creature crashing through the forest outside the mill and figured he didn't have much time.

Dean crawled over to the mill wheels and used them to get on his feet…or at least sitting on them and not on the floor any longer as he hunched over his aching chest and stomach and got a good look at his left leg. His jeans had been torn open below the knee by the ahuizotl's claws, and there were three long, bloody furrows running from knee to ankle. He realized he was shaking, whether from cold or the early stages of shock or both, as frigid water dripped from his hair and clothes.

"Dammit. D-don't have t-time for hypo…hypothermia. Shit!" he growled and stood, testing his leg. It held his weight and that would have to do for now. He wanted to get to his brother; needed to get to Sam and find out if he was even alive. Dean swallowed hard and shoved that thought away. He couldn't afford to even think like that or he'd just sit down and let the ugly bastard outside eat him.

He still had his long-knife, but his gun had been left where the ahuizotl attacked them. Dean looked around the mill's interior, trying to think of some way to kill the thing. He staggered as he stepped away from the millstones and grunted in pain, holding an arm over his chest. His back hurt just as much as his front. The walls of the mill rattled with a hard impact, and Dean spun, drawing the blade from his belt again. "Ok, you bastard." He was shaking so hard in his cold, wet clothes it was probably a good thing he didn't have his gun; he wouldn't have been able to fire straight anyway. Dean looked at the door in the side of the building, the one he'd glanced in earlier, and decided that was his best bet. If he could get the creature to try and come in after him, he might able to bottle it up in the narrow door.

Dean limped to the open door, still hearing the ahuizotl banging on the back wall of the mill and stuck his head out. "HEY, UGLY!" he bellowed it out into the early afternoon air and looked toward the forest. A second later, the giant lizard lumbered quickly around the corner of the mill and howled when it spotted Dean with its good eye. "That's right! Come get some!" Dean pulled his head back inside and waited, moving a few feet away in case it decided to swing a clawed hand or its tail inside first. It turned out to be the right decision as the weighted tail that had knocked him cold before flew inside the mill and crashed into the floor in a shower of wood and splinters as it broke through. The tail whipped back out and Dean waited, keeping his long-knife up.

The ahuizotl's head lunged through the door suddenly with its jaw opened wide to show rows of teeth. As Dean hoped, the narrow opening caught the creature's shoulders and he took his shot. Dean stabbed the blade down into the monster's remaining eye, bursting it in a shower of blood and gore to run down its scaled head as it screamed. Rather than try to escape, it clawed at the outside wall of the mill in rage trying to reach him.

Dean grunted with the effort of keeping his grip and staying away from the powerful jaws. He took the hilt of the long-knife with both hands and put all his weight behind it, driving it further into the ahuizotl's skull, twisting it as he went in search of its brain while the howls filled the small mill and deafened him.

Dean gave his own howl of effort, shoving the blade in to the hilt. The ahuizotl gave a sharp scream. Its head lurched to the side, catching Dean in the chest and throwing him back onto the millstones. Dean groaned, blinking away the spots in his vision as he fought to stay conscious. He pushed himself up and looked over in time to watch the creature's head thump down to the floor hard enough to rattle the walls.

"Son of a bitch," Dean groaned softly and couldn't feel any satisfaction as a long tongue rolled from its mouth and it finally stopped moving with the hilt of his long-knife protruding from its eye. He slid off the stones and fell to his knees with a wave of dizziness. "Shit." Dean crawled across the floor to the massive head. He reached out when he was close enough and gave it a punch in the jaw. It rocked slightly from the impact, but the ahuizotl showed no signs of life and Dean sagged to lean against the wall next to it for a moment. He marshaled what energy he had left and used the wall and the creature to get back to his feet. Dean leaned against the scaled muzzle and took hold of the hilt of the long-knife. It took him several minutes to work the blade back out of the eye-socket, and it emerged in a flow of red and grey things he decided he'd rather not think about just then.

"Ok, Sammy. I'm c-comin'." Dean's shivers were starting to lessen, but he was still frozen and knew hypothermia was having a go at setting in. "Dammit." He climbed up the head of the ahuizotl, groaning with each twinge of abuse muscle, not interested in using the other door and having to climb back down into the water. He slid across its neck and down the side of its shoulder, giving it an irreverent pat. "Don't…don't g-go anywhere." He moved towards the back of the monster and the mill and only had time for a quick, surprised gasp as the long tail twitched without warning and flew toward him. It slammed his back into the mill wall, and Dean slid to the ground in a daze. He watched the tail thump back to the rocky ground and realized it had just been a reflex, since the creature itself didn't so much as twitch. He tried to catch the breath that had been knocked from him, but his body had finally had enough. Dean's last coherent thought was of his brother, sending out a silent prayer that Sam was alright, as he slumped sideways to the ground, unconscious.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam woke in stages, first hearing a bird calling somewhere overhead, then feeling the hard, stony ground beneath his cheek. He was cold and confused and tried to remember where he was. He cleared his throat and moved his head and an agonized moan tore itself from his throat with the motion. Pain crashed back and forth through his skull like waves on a beach that went straight to his stomach and made that roll as well.

"D…Dean," he gasped in desperation. Sam couldn't imagine where his brother was. Dean was always there when he hurt. He drew his brows together as a flash of memory came to him. He saw something large and scaled rushing at him. He remembered hearing Dean's voice screaming his name and then…Sam moaned, unable to remember anything else. He tried to open his eyes and wondered when night had fallen, it was so dark. It had been daylight, he was sure of it. How long had he been out? And if he had been unconscious that long…his fear suddenly ratcheted up a notch as his thoughts returned to Dean. Where was he? He moved carefully, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes and clear them and hissed out a breath at the sudden stab of pain from his back.

Sam wrapped his other hand around his head, as though he were holding it together and slowly, so slowly, managed to push up. He felt something rough at his back, a tree, and used it to prop his shoulder against while his head swam. He blinked his eyes furiously trying to see anything, and confusion began to give way to panic. No matter how deep the night might be in the forest, he should be able to see…something. Anything.

"Oh, God," Sam whispered. He knew he was holding his hand in front of his face but he couldn't see it. He couldn't see anything but blackness. The thought "cave" briefly crossed his mind – it would account for the total and complete darkness, but…no. He was leaning against a tree and could hear birds. He swallowed hard when understanding slammed into him and could no longer be denied. He was blind. The panic won, and fear moved through him in a cold rush that left his head spinning and him lunging to the side to spew what little he'd eaten that day onto the ground. He gasped and heaved and leaned back to hold his head again when the pain refused to stop.

"Dean." Sam whispered it and then steeled himself. "Dean!" The sound of his own voice raised in a shout made him moan miserably as he held his head. His fingers slid back through his shaggy hair and he found a bleeding welt over a large bump on the back of his head. The memory rushed back at him then -the ahuizotl attacking and then being flung away while his brother tried to rush in to save him.

"DEAN!" This time Sam screamed it and ended up slumped to the side yet again with the pounding in his skull. There was no answer except for the sounds of the forest and his fear hit a whole new level. What if his brother was just feet away and unable to answer? What if he was…Sam crushed that thought before it could finish. Dean would be fine. He had to be. Sam needed him to be. Unconscious. He must just be unconscious somewhere nearby. That's all. Or maybe he'd gone after the creature to finish it off. Maybe that was it.

Sam pushed himself up again so he was leaning on the tree and fumbled in his back pocket for his phone. It was a slim hope that there would be any cell service to speak of up there, but it was worth a try. He pulled his phone out and sobbed a breath, realizing he couldn't possibly see it to dial. Sam shook his head carefully and flipped his phone open. He knew Dean's number. He just had to find the right keys. It took him two tries but finally he heard the phone dial and nearly cried when it actually rang; he was getting a signal. His relief was short-lived, however. Dean didn't answer and Sam tried to not to think about the implications of that. He hadn't heard his brother's ring tone, so he was nowhere nearby and that brought a whole new wave of fear. The ahuizotl dumped its victims in the river.

"Dean," Sam gasped when his brother's voice mail picked up. "Really…really hope you're not being…being drowned or something right now. I can't, um…I can't see…any…anything." Sam's breath hitched anew with panic and he worked hard to shove it down. "I'm gonna…gonna try and find the…the river and you, ok? Dean? Really wish you were…just, don't be dead, ok?" Sam closed the phone and carefully put it back in his pocket.

He turned cautiously and used the trunk of the tree to get unsteadily to his feet. He leaned his forehead into the rough bark and wished his sight would come back. Sam didn't even want to think of how hard a hit to the head he had to have taken to go blind like that. It wasn't good, of that he was sure. He realized as he stood there that there were little flashes of light at the edges of his vision. They only seemed to make the disorientation worse and he fought the need to throw up again.

Sam curved his hands around the width of the tree and smiled a little in relief when his left hand brushed over a wide swath of moss. He remembered Bobby teaching them when they were young that moss always growing on the north side of a tree was crap. They lived in the northern hemisphere and that meant moss on the south side of the tree. He knew he needed to head generally east to find the river and moved until he was facing the mossy patch, then turned to his right.

It took more willpower than he wanted to think about to step away from the tree into virtual nothingness. When they were kids, their father had conducted training drills with them blindfolded in order to teach them to rely on their other senses in anticipation of just such a situation arising. But that had been a long time ago, and training with a blindfold in a safe situation was very different than the position he found himself in now – alone and hurt, probably with a deadly predator in the vicinity and a missing, possibly injured brother he needed to find. He steeled himself and took the first step, swaying dangerously with a lack of balance but finally managed to stay on his feet. Sam put a hand back to check he hadn't turned in a different direction and sighed, finding he was still facing east…he hoped. He took a few stumbling steps and kept one hand on his head, trying to will the crashing pain under control as he stumbled forward with his other hand held out in front of him to hopefully stop him from walking right into another tree.

Sam couldn't stop the feeling as though the world was spinning around him and had to fight the urge to over-correct his course. He strained his ears, hoping to hear the sound of the Crystal River near the mill. "Dean!" Sam called his brother's name every few minutes, waiting in vain to hear a response. His seeking hand slapped into another tree, and Sam gave himself a moment to lean his head against it and regroup. Even without the blindness, Sam would have known he was concussed and the chill under the forest canopy out of the sunlight wasn't helping. He started walking again, hoping that he was still moving on the right path and almost went to his knees on a sob of relief when he realized he could hear running water ahead - the river.

He gave a breathless laugh that he hadn't turned himself around and started toward it. "Dean? Dean!" Sam shouted as loud as he could without splitting his own head open with the sound. He had visions of his brother dancing through his head, but over-topping them all was the one sight he wasn't sure he'd ever escape, seeing Dean laid low by the juiced-up taser and looking pale and long-dead. "No." Sam told himself firmly.

Sam resisted the urge to quicken his steps and risk falling on the uneven ground. The stones and packed dirt of the forest floor began to give way to the bedrock at the river. He could feel the difference through his shoes as he walked, and it gave him another rush of hope. He was definitely moving in the right direction. Sam stopped so fast he swayed as a new smell rolled over him. It was powerful and smelled of rotting things, meat and vegetation both, and it hadn't been there a moment before. Perhaps it was the lack of his sight, but the smell seemed so powerful he could almost taste it and it made him want to gag. He swallowed convulsively several times to try and avoid that. He turned his head slowly from side to side, listening so hard it almost hurt but all he could hear was the river.

And then it struck him; all he could hear was the river now. The crickets had stilled and the bird that had been cheerfully calling when he woke was gone silent. There was nothing but the nearby sound of rushing water. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran down Sam's spine and he slapped a hand to his back for his gun. He dropped his head with a groan; of course it was gone, lost when the ahuizotl attacked him. He'd never have been able to find it anyway without his sight. He felt at his left side and found the silver long-knife still at his hip.

"Ok. I can…I can do this," Sam told himself softly and pulled the blade free. He held it out in front of him and started toward the sound of the river once more. He snorted softly at the ridiculousness of it - a blind man with a knife looking for a fight. Dean would get a kick out of it, no doubt…if only Dean would reappear.

"Dea…" Sam broke off on a gag as the horrid smell intensified and took his breath away. His intuition told him he wasn't alone any longer and every inch of his skin itched with the need to run, to escape and find Dean. He strained his senses for anything, any sound that would tell him what direction the danger was in. Sam could feel it like a physical thing hanging in the air. He breathed through his mouth to keep the vile odor from choking him. Sam spun, swinging out with the blade. He caught himself as he overbalanced and swung back. The blade caught and swung through something, surprising him, and for a second, he thought he'd hit a tree. A short howl of anger filled the air from so close to him that Sam gasped in shock. He tried to step backward reflexively but his balance wasn't up to it and he went down hard on his butt.

"Crap. Crap!" Sam pushed backwards, trying to put some distance between himself and whatever it was he'd hit. He swung out with the long-knife again and heard it whistle through the air without hitting anything. "DEAN!" he screamed it this time, making his head explode in fresh pain with the strength of it, and then hands were on him. They were bigger than they should be. He could feel that much in his darkness, and the blade was twisted easily from his grasp without any way to see what was happening.

"Who are you?" Sam yelled and felt himself dragged up. A scruffy hand clamped over his mouth, and he was held awkwardly with a massive arm over his chest, pressing him back into a muscled, hairy chest. The idea of a bear went through his mind as he was carried and was quickly discarded. No bear would pick him up like that and muffle him. He struggled futilely in the thing's grip. His feet didn't even touch the ground. The thing that held him shifted its hand and Sam began to panic again in earnest as his nose was covered along with his mouth and he lost the ability to drag in a breath. He wished again that he could see anything but blackness and those little flashes of light…that he could see his brother again, if only to know he was alright before…his head swam as he lost his fight to breathe and slipped into unconsciousness wondering vaguely if he would ever wake up again.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

The sound of Sam's voice jerked Dean awake. "Sam?" He shook his head, groaned and pushed up from where he'd collapsed to his side. "Sam!" He called, knowing he had heard his brother yell his name. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking at the body of the ahuizotl that still lay dead. "Shit," Dean made himself move and stand. "Sam!" He tried again, grimacing, and moaned at the renewed pain in his body from the beating the creature had given him. Dean looked over its body to the river and saw nothing. "Sam! Over here!"

Dean waited and heard no response. The relief that had briefly washed through him hearing his little brother alive and at least well enough to have found him quickly fled on a new burst of fear. He jumped, startled, when the phone in his back pocket chirped at him. "Shit." He dug it out and saw that he'd missed a call. Dean flicked it open, surprised that someone had managed to get a signal up there, and then he saw it was from Sam. His fingers went numb…more numb than they already were. He was still freezing and shivering, and his hands shook as he hit play and put the phone to his ear.

Dread filled him listening to his brother's voice; Sam sounded disoriented, hurt, and - Dean went to his knees in reaction when he heard Sam say he was blind. "Son of a bitch. No, no, no," Dean lowered the phone and stared for a moment. Blind was bad. Blind was very bad and meant whatever was wrong, his little brother probably didn't have a lot of time before blind became permanent.

Dean staggered to his feet again and picked up the blade he'd dropped. "Ok. River." He went wide around the ahuizotl, giving its tail a wide berth this time and headed in the direction they'd originally walked. It stunned him to think that Sam had somehow managed to find his way from where they'd been attacked back to the river without his sight. Dean smiled with pride for Sam even as he choked with fear for him. It was nearing dusk as Dean splashed across the river again and the cold took him to his knees again once he reached the other side.

"Sh..shit." He wrapped his arms around himself and got to his feet again. "Sammy?" Dean yelled, teeth chattering and stumbled up the rocky bank to the trees. He stepped through them, looking furiously for any sign of Sam and caught a flash of metal in the underbrush. He jogged over and knelt, reached down and came up with Sam's silver long-knife. Dean whipped his head up and looked around. "Sam!" He couldn't imagine how Sam's blade would have gotten there, but his brother be nowhere in sight. Dean got up on a knee and then to his feet only to drop down again a few feet away and slap a hand into the ground. Pressed into the hard-packed dirt were the vague impressions of Sam's sneakers and, around them, the deeper prints of the five-toed thing that had invaded the cabin before they arrived.

"Sam?" Dean whispered in fear and looked out into the darkening forest. "SAM!"

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sam's first thought on waking had been to once again panic because he couldn't see until he remembered why. It didn't actually help dispel the fear any, but it made him keep a lid on it until he could get himself free…or until Dean found him…if Dean was even still alive. That thought tore through his gut in ways even the blindness could not, but, in much the same way, had to be roughly shoved aside for the time being if he was going to survive. The rest of it, he could sort out and deal with later.

He lifted his head up and groaned again. The thing that had taken him had strung him up. Sam could feel some rough material around his wrists and forearms. It bit into his skin and he shivered continuously. His shirts and jacket had been taken from him while he was unconscious. The toes of his shoes barely brushed the ground beneath him, and he thought, from the way it echoed, he was in a cave. His vision was still nothing but darkness and the occasional flash of light like little starbursts behind his eyes. It made his head swim and his stomach roll, but all of that he could have taken if not for the creature…whatever it was. He wished he could see it, even just a glimpse to figure out what he was up against. He heard it moving around the cave, making soft snuffling sounds and low growls, and a while after he'd woken, Sam had heard another join it. The smell inside the cave was even stronger than it had been outside, and his eyes were still watering in reaction to it though his nose seemed to be making a valiant attempt at giving up smelling anything.

Sam jerked when he felt a clawed hand brush down his bare back. "Get off me!" He tried to kick out, but it pulled his shoulders painfully and drove the pain in his head up bad enough that he had to stop and just try to breathe through it or risk passing out again. The clawed hand was back, this time dragging down his chest, and Sam cried out in startled pain when he felt the claws breaking through his skin to slice down and over his stomach. "Stop!" He gasped for breath as the hand left him, and he felt blood sliding over his skin to soak into the denim of his jeans. "God!" Hot breath blew into his face, and Sam reared his head back as much as he was able.

"No." The voice was rough, deep, and ragged as though unfamiliar with speech though it knew how. "No gods."

Sam's mouth fell open in shock. "What…what do you want?"

The sickening breath blew in his face again and Sam couldn't stop the scream as what felt like a massive, curved claw dug into his shoulder, pushing and twisting until it scraped bone and nearly took him under again.

"Trespass."

Sam sobbed air in and out, ashamed of the whimper that escaped him and unable to stop it. "Wha'…where?" He swallowed around the need to throw up again and licked his cracked lips. "What are you?" It was hard to gather his thoughts together in the darkness. Every slight sound in the cave around him made him jump; trying to turn his head to see even though he knew he couldn't. Each time the thing holding him touched him suddenly, it drove his fear up ever higher. Sam was lightheaded with it.

"Buggane," the voice growled it into his ear.

Sam felt hair-covered hands wrap around each of his biceps. For a moment, it felt like they were just holding him steady, and then the claws began to bite into his flesh, digging into muscle as the thing tightened its grip and Sam cried out again. He knew what it was now…what they were, as a third clawed hand pulled down his back in a wash of blood and open skin. The buggane were of Celtic origin. They were simple creatures with the power of speech, covered in black fur with tusks, and Sam jumped when he felt one of those weapons brush across the front of his throat. They lived in caves and tunnels in forests, and they were ruthless in defending their territory. Of all the lore he remembered about the buggane, the part that made him want to cry at his own uselessness was the knowledge that if he'd just turned and run to cross the river when he'd first smelled them, he'd be safe. Buggane couldn't cross water. His blindness had gotten him caught, and his big brother was likely long dead by now.

"Sor…sorry," Sam gasped brokenly as the claws piercing his arms finally pulled away. "Didn't….didn't…know. Please." He listened to the creatures moving, felt the teasing touches at various spots on his body and knew they had figured out he couldn't see them when one would grunt in one direction and a claw would slash him from another. They were toying with him.

"Food."

Sam shook his head slowly and felt a tear of hopelessness run down his face. "No," he shouted angrily as those massive hands wrapped around his thighs and the claws pierced through the denim and into his flesh.

"Food."

They were bleeding him. Sam understood. He'd read the stories in Dad's journal and Bobby's books an age ago. The buggane was a scavenger most of the time, but when it could get fresh meat, it liked to tenderize it, bleed it. "Stop…please," Sam begged and another hoarse cry was dragged from him when the claws ripped from his thighs and new claws stabbed into his back, low on each side as though they were trying very hard not to kill him quickly. "We'll…we'll leave your t…territory. Just please…stop!"

The claws left his skin finally and Sam sagged from his bound wrists. He could feel blood coating him from wrists to feet. His own warm blood almost served to comfort him before it cooled and ran away, leaving him to shudder and shake and gasp. The first blow to his stomach came as a shock, and he threw up, relieved at least that most of it sounded to have landed on one of the buggane as it snarled its unhappiness. The blows rained harder after that. Furred hands pummeled him everywhere they could find hard muscle to tenderize him, and he realized, in a sort of disconnected state, that it hadn't been the ahuizotl coming back for the missing bodies of the victims; it was these creatures scavenging 'food'.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and then all the air punched out of him with another hit to his solar plexus. It stole his breath. His stomach roiled with the abuse, the concussion, and the feel of blood-matted, hairy hands slamming into him. He was lightheaded with blood loss and starting to get that disturbingly familiar sensation of floating that usually preceded unconsciousness when the hail of blows stopped. "Stop…stop…s-stop." His voice was a haggard whisper and it was all he was capable of.

He heard the creatures moving in the darkness and couldn't stop blinking as if it would clear his sight and knowing, with an ever-sinking feeling, that it wouldn't. In some detached part of his brain, he found himself thinking that it really didn't matter, since he wasn't going to last much longer anyway. He hung from his bonds while blood flowed sluggishly and the chill ate into his bones. The crashing pain in his head had settled into stabbing pain behind both eyes. Open or closed, it made him twist even over the agony of the multitude of wounds that covered his body.

Sam jerked when he felt a line of heat at his back. "No…don't." He screamed when heavy jaws bit down into the back of his shoulder and worried at the muscle like a dog with a bone. The buggane released him after several long moments and Sam was near unconscious, hanging on by only a thread.

"Not ready." The buggane told him, and Sam would swear he could hear a smile in that strange voice.

Consciousness flowed in and out for him where Sam dangled. His wrists were so slick with his own blood he began to try and consider freeing himself but quickly discarded the idea. He had no weapons and, more importantly, he could see nothing. He couldn't begin to imagine how he would escape the clutches of the two buggane and find his way out of whatever cavern they'd take him to and then somehow find his brother. A sense of resignation washed through him and he sagged in his bonds, a small part of him wishing it would just be over soon so he could be free of the pain that seemed to radiate from every pore in his body. Sam's scattered thoughts drifted and finally something nudged at him. He tilted his head back slowly and just listened. Water. He could hear running water. With that realization came the memory of looking at the topographical map of the area. He'd told Dean that one of the caves sat beside the Crystal River.

A tiny, faint spark of something like hope nudged at that stubborn Winchester part of his brain, and Sam began turning his wrists in the rough rope and ignored the fresh burn of pain all through his body as he moved. It was the only hope he had. All he had to do was reach the water, cross it, and he'd be safe. He had no idea what he'd do after that, but he wasn't going to just sit back and die, not if there was a chance to survive, no matter how small. He was a Winchester dammit. He twisted and pulled on his hands, feeling fresh blood begin to trickle down his arms. Sam strained his ears to listen to the cave but there was nothing; nothing but his own heavy breaths, the creaking of the rope holding him, and the water rushing outside.

It took him longer than he liked, but finally Sam's left hand slipped through the rope. His arm dropped and he bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to stifle the cry. It was short-lived. With his left hand free, his right fell as well and he crashed to the floor. He couldn't use his arms to stop his fall with his shoulders so strained from being held above him too long and bearing his considerable weight. Sam took it as a small gift that his voice was so hoarse from the treatment he'd already received that the shout of pain was little more than a muffled moan.

Sam froze on the stone floor of the cave and strained to hear every sound, anything that might be out of place to tell him if the buggane were still there or coming back. He felt tears of relief touch his cheeks as the water remained the only sound, and he fought to make his failing body obey him. Sam found his knees and shuffled to turn toward the sound. His arms were still more or less useless, but he stumbled to his feet and slowly shuffled as quietly as he could toward the water, waiting at any moment to walk into a stone wall or feel clawed hands gripping him tight once more.

It disturbed him a little on a visceral level that he was starting to become used to trusting his other senses, as though his body were accepting the knowledge that he would never see again and that his failure to defend himself had already cost his brother his life. Sam shook his head with a soft moan of denial. He couldn't allow himself to think that way or he'd fall down and not get up again. His entire body protested the effort of walking and Sam steeled himself, refusing to lie down and die. He kept moving one shuffling step at a time and sucked in a deep breath as he felt the first draft of fresh air over his face.

Sam's sightless eyes rolled and finally he closed them to stop the spinning sensation having them open kept giving him. He shakily raised his left arm out and his fingers brushed a stone wall. He followed it and sucked in a shuddering breath as the sound of water grew and he felt dirt and grass under his feet rather than hard stone. A sound in the distance jerked him to a stop so hard he nearly fell. It was the peculiar, snuffling growl of the buggane. They were returning.

Sam spun to face the sound of the running water and moved as quickly as he could. His breath came harder and faster, and he grunted as he bounced from one tree and landed hard on the ground. He marshaled the last of his energy and used the tree to get back to his feet as the first roar sounded behind him. Sam did his best to keep his arms sweeping in front of him and avoid running into more trees. The water grew louder as he stumbled and ran while a call went up from the cave. Sam cried out hoarsely as the ground suddenly went away under his feet and he splashed down into the frigid, churning waters of the Crystal River.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean looked after the tracks leading away, he knew, with his brother and struggled back to his feet. He managed a step before his shaking body quit on him and he dropped back to his knees. "D…dammit." He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone back out. There was no way around it; they needed help. "Please, p-please, please. Gimme a d-damn b-bar." He was so cold, he didn't think he would ever be warm again. Dean flicked his phone open and snarled. "No! Dammit!" The words 'no signal' mocked him from the screen. "Son of a BITCH!" He barely resisted the urge to throw the phone and slumped over onto his hands, trying to find enough strength to get up and find his brother. "Friggin' useless ass mountains - no cell service and I HATE CAMPING!" Dean reared back and shouted it at the sky in impotent rage. It sapped his waning energy and he curled over himself, wrapping his arms around his aching chest to try and conserve what little body heat he had left.

"Hey! You alright?"

Dean whipped his head around to look back toward the mill and saw a hillbilly looking man splashing through the shallow river to him. He couldn't find it in himself just then to even stand and stayed on his knees. "Phone, or a radio. We need help."

"Radio back at town. Come on. Getcha up here."

Dean let the man pull him to his feet and shook his head. "That radio got trashed. My brother…he's out here. Gotta find him."

"Ain't gonna look fer him in the dark witch'er close to freezin' yerself." The man shook his head. "Damn yankees, always thinkin' they knows what they doin' up in these here…."

Dean jerked his arm away as the man turned him toward the mill. "No! I am NOT leaving him out here!" He stepped back from the man and fell, landing on his butt.

"Don' look like you gonna be doin' much of anything 'til ya warm up." The man cocked his head and grinned. "What in'ell happened to you anyway? Oh! Joe! Call me Joe."

Dean waved an arm toward the mill. "That." He snarled at himself and his own weakness, trying to get back to his feet and groaning at the effort that took.

"Holy…well, butter mah butt and call me a biscuit!" Joe exclaimed in surprise as he looked at the massive creature lying dead beside it. He turned wide eyes to the young man. "What in hell IS that?"

"Uh…someone's pet…gator." Dean shrugged, not having time for any of it as he turned back to the forest.

"Ah knew it." Joe rolled his eyes and grabbed Dean's arm again, turning him back to the water and the mill. "Always hear them stories 'bout people flushin' their pets. Stop pullin' already!"

"I'm n-not leaving my b- brother!" Dean's teeth chattered anew as his feet slid back into the frigid water. "He c-can't see!"

"Damn fool thing bringin' a blind man up in the mountains." Joe rolled his eyes for the vagaries of city folk. "Ya ain't gonna do him no good if'n you don't get warm and what'cha gonna do if another o' them shows up, huh? Best be bringin' somethin' a might more useful than that pig sticker." He gestured at the silver long-knife in Dean's hand dismissively. "You ain't gonna do your brother a lick o' good you get eaten."

Dean hung his head and let the man propel him through the water and up onto dry ground again. He had a point. Going off after his brother without any means of defense from whatever had taken him and in his current condition was likely to get them both killed. He needed to warm up and arm up, and the cabin was the best place to do that. Logically, he knew that was true. Every fiber of his being, however, was screaming at him to not leave Sam out there alone one moment longer than necessary, especially with night setting in. The last of the day's light slipped behind the mountains towering over them and sent them into darkness. He jumped when Joe flicked on a flashlight and easily found the path behind the mill.

"Know your way around," Dean commented.

Joe nodded. "Lived up here all m'life. My great-grandaddy helped settle the place or some such." He chuckled. "Never did pay much 'tention in school."

Dean snorted and tried to push Joe into a faster pace. "Gotta hurry. Sam needs help." He glanced at Joe's head; the light blonde hair sticking out in all directions and haphazardly trimmed beard, worn jacket and denim overalls. "What are you d-doin' up here anyway?"

Joe glanced at him and shrugged under Dean's arm over his shoulders. "Kinda figerred I owed Ranger Grady a little. Maybe find his…you know, his arm." He snorted. "Poor sucker got took right under my nose. I reckon he'd'a done the same for me. 'Course, he were always tryin' to make me walk the straight and narra' or whatever." Joe chuckled. "Ranger Grady was like a booger you cain't thump off when he got his nose in yer business, but…he was an alright guy."

"Wolves." Dean said and had to concentrate to keep his legs moving. "We f-found them on the t-trail up…up here. Not gonna find his…his arm."

"Come on, keep them legs movin'. I ain't carryin' your giant ass."

Dean was surprised into a sad laugh. "Oughta see…see my little brother." He picked up his feet a little more. "I'm Dean."

"Well, Dean. You ain't walkin' so well anymore," Joe grunted under the weight of the man and stumbled them to a stop. "Come on. Sit…here ya' go now."

"No, dammit," Dean argued but couldn't stop the slide to the ground as Joe eased him down. His body had reached the point where it had simply taken too much abuse and was quitting on him.

"Be a hell of a lot faster, I run back and grab stuff an' come back." Joe knelt next to the stricken man and tilted his head. "You don' look so good."

Dean struggled, needing to be up and be moving and finding his brother, but finally accepted that he was in no condition just then. "Fine. Just…" He met Joe's eyes in the glow of the flashlight. "There's a bag in the…the shed outside the end b-building. Clothes, weapons, supplies. Grab that." He darted a hand out and grabbed Joe's leg as he stood. "Hurry. Please, man. Whatever I look like right now, Sam's worse." He knew that deep down and it was killing him.

"Here." Joe pulled off his jacket. "Be back in…oh, fifteen, twenty, tops. Don't you go wanderin' off nowhere."

Dean nodded, for the moment beaten, and wrinkled his nose at the smell while Joe tucked his jacket over him like a blanket. "Uh…thanks." He watched the mountain man take off at a run and looked out into the darkening night. "Hang on, Sam," he whispered softly around the lump in his throat. Dean pulled the jacket tighter around him and rolled his eyes at the smell even while Joe's lingering body heat held inside it helped to warm him. He put his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. Dean stared at the blackness behind his eyes and wondered what it must be like for Sam and why it was his little brother couldn't see. He let his thoughts drift, trying to gather enough energy to get up and go find him when a hand on his shoulder made him jerk away and half raise the blade under the cover of the jacket.

"Whoa!"

Dean stared and blinked up at Joe while the flashlight played over him. "Joe? What the…You're supposed to go get…" he trailed off as Joe held up the large duffel he and Sam had stashed away.

Joe snorted and dropped the bag next to him. "Son, you been countin' sheep or whatever while I been gone." He'd admit to himself, though never to Dean, that he'd been tempted to fall back on his thieving ways when he'd seen the assortment of weapons and supplies. Joe shook his head and knelt, pulling the bag open. Ranger Grady's face had come to mind, though, and mocked him for leaving someone else alone to get dead in those woods when he could do something about it, and in his heart, Joe knew he could never live with himself if he did that.

"Holy crap." Dean washed a hand down his face and pushed Joe's jacket off his chest. He shivered with its warmth gone and groaned softly as he moved, and his bruised body protested after sitting still too long. He reached into the bag and came out with a fistful of warm clothing. His breathing hitched in his chest when he realized it was one of Sam's hoodies. He pulled the soft fabric close, bunching it in his hands and just stared it.

"We'll find him, man," Joe said softly because you didn't have to be a damn genius to figure out what was going through the guy's head. "Let's get you warm."

Dean was too cold and sore to be embarrassed about stripping off his sodden jacket and shirts with an audience to pull on fresh, dry shirts. It gave that small measure of comfort that dry clothes after being cold and wet always did, but he didn't smile. He grudgingly shoved his leather jacket into the bag. It was holding far too much water to be wearable and warm anytime soon. He pushed it to the side and tugged out the sawed-off shotgun, another pistol that was the twin to the Taurus Sam preferred. He took out another flashlight and clicked it on and then looked at Joe. "You, uh…you coming with me? I could use someone who knows the terrain."

Joe nodded. He wasn't a brave man, not even a little, and he knew it; and until Ranger Grady had died because of it, he'd been fine with being a coward. "Someone's gotta keep yer yankee ass on yer feet. Come on." Joe stood and pulled Dean up with him. "Whoa." He steadied the taller man when Dean swayed dangerously and his left leg looked to not be supporting his weight.

"Crap," Dean groaned. It took him a minute to get his protesting leg under him. "Sorry. Ok. Good, I'm good. I got this." His left leg was a misery of fiery pain and it gave him the sick surety that he'd be dumping holy water on it later and regretting every second of it. "We gotta move. Already been too damn long."

"Alrighty." Joe shouldered the heavy bag without asking. Dean didn't look capable of carrying himself at that point, let alone any extra weight. "You know where you saw him last?"

"River, where you found me." Dean managed a hunched, fast walk with his left hand braced on his left thigh for some semblance of support. His mind was running through every horrifying scenario he could think of involving his brother, caught in a loop of self-hate for leaving him, no matter his condition. "We should cross and follow it."

"He could be anywhere in there." Joe waved the hand with the flashlight out toward the forested valley."

Dean shook his head. "No. He's…he's hurt and he can't see. He'll stay to the river if he can."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's what I'd do," Dean said softly and surely. No matter how hurt they got, the old training always won out, the years of growing up with their dad's voice in their ears drilling information and training into them. Sam would follow the sound of the water…if he could.

"Come on. This way." Joe tugged Dean further up the river when they reached it, away from the mill. "Place up here where it runs real shallow like." He grinned in the dark. "Might not even get yer feet wet this time of year."

Dean groaned. "Wish we'd known about that earlier."

"S'pose we could'a put a sign up or somethin', but damn it's fun watchin' all them city folk ruin all them pretty shoes." Joe laughed.

Dean smirked, appreciating the sentiment even while he silently cursed the locals.

"Watch it here." Joe played the beam of the flashlight along the ground to show how the bedrock buckled and rose up to one side. He kept Dean steady on his feet as they went and pointed the light to show him the spot where gravel and broken stone had built up to form a sort of damn. The water flowed around and through it, finding every nook and cranny to look like one of those little waterfalls people spent a fortune on in the store, even in the beam from his flashlight.

Dean worked hard to keep his left foot moving the way he needed it to, but it was a fight. He was grateful for Joe's steady presence under his arm, not just for supporting him, but for keeping him from running after Sam half-cocked and unprepared. They crossed over the dam with Dean's already water-logged boots squelching through the shallow stream that over-topped to tumble over. He shuddered with the fresh wave of cold and wished he had a hand free to pull his flannels closer around him, but he wasn't willing to relinquish his hold on the shotgun to get warmer.

"Hey." Dean stopped, holding Joe still with his arm over the man's shoulder as something Sam had said earlier in the day came back to him. "This river, it runs near a cave somewhere, right?"

Joe's eyes widened and he nodded. "Yeah. 'bout a half mile maybe. Ol' Crystal here curves back 'round and almost goes right past the front door."

"There. Take me there. Fast." Dean shook his head when Joe looked askance at him. There were only so many coincidences in life, and fewer when you were a Winchester.

"We can get there faster we go away from the river," Joe told him and shrugged. "Yer choice."

Dean nodded. "Do it." He turned with Joe away from the water and spent the time walking in the dark putting up more roadblocks in his mind against the pain and watching the gloomy forest around them warily. He could still hear the river off on their right as it grew louder, and Joe informed him that it was much deeper back this way and ran faster before it turned toward the mill and got stopped up. They both staggered to a stop as loud howls filled the night air.

"What the crap is that?" Joe asked and shivered at the sound. He tightened his grip on the gun Dean had pushed into his hand earlier.

"Nothing good. Move. Move!" Dean's heart raced with the sure knowledge that Sam was now in dire trouble. "That's Sam. Whatever's going on, it's him."

"Could be a bear," Joe said, and didn't even believe that himself.

Dean shook his head, forcing his left leg into something resembling a run. "It's him. Only Sam can piss something off that much." A smile stretched his face as they ran and quickly fell away as the howls sounded again. He pulled his arm from Joe's shoulders and turned toward the river again to follow the sound. "SAM!" Dean and Joe broke through a screen of trees, and Dean turned his light to the bank of the darkly churning water. Two large, black haired figures loped along the bank, and Dean's heart dropped into his stomach as he saw his brother's head in the water, being pulled by the current with the creatures following. Dean was torn - the creatures or his brother? Training made his decision for him. Take out the threat first and pick up the pieces later. "Get him!" Dean took Joe's arm and shoved him toward the river and Sam as Dean raised his shotgun and sighted the flashlight along with it. "HEY!" Dean bellowed and gave a dangerous, feral grin the moment their attention turned from Sam to him. He had a score to settle.

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean limped quickly to the edge of the river and put himself in the path of the creatures, between them and his brother. He heard Joe yelling to Sam behind him, but he had to tune it out. His focus had to be on first eliminating the threat, and in his weakened state, he knew he had to get it right the first time. He would not get a second chance. He took in the two snarling, tusked faces covered in black hair coming for him. Their mouths were red in the flashlight's beam and he knew it was with his brother's blood. That sent a cold wave of protective rage flowing through him that steadied his shaking hands. He knew what they were, had seen pictures of them in Dad's journal, and knew the rock salt loaded shotgun in his hands was useless…but the gun at his back wasn't. The creatures rushed him, and Dean dropped the shotgun to reach behind him and pull the Taurus out. He fired three shots into the larger of the buggane before they were on him and watched it stumble and fall as the lead pierced its chest. They were distantly related to creatures of faerie, if he remembered right, and that meant lead would work. Dean grinned for all of a second before the other buggane crashed into him and rolled them both to the ground in a snarling pile.

Sam's legs bumped and dragged over the rocky bottom of the river, and he only just managed to keep his head up when he heard his brother, but then another voice was calling his name. "Dean?" His voice was still a mangled rasp, almost too low for him to hear.

"Sam!" Joe jogged along the river's edge, keeping one eye on Dean and the…things…and the other on his brother. "Sam, you gotta swim this way!" He groaned and started pulling his jacket off, resigned to having to go in after the obviously battered and dazed man, when the guy suddenly seemed to understand and moved closer to the shore. "That's it! Come on. Little further and I can getcha!"

Sam was so cold he could barely function. His body hadn't been paying a lot of attention to his orders before he went into the river, and it paid even less now. He was worried both his shoulders were dislocated as he could hardly raise his arms to swim, and he kicked weakly along the bottom toward the strange voice calling for him. Dean was there and would say something if Sam should stay away from this person. And, frankly, at this point, Sam was so desperate that he probably would have gladly accepted help from Jack the Ripper if it got him out of the icy water. He felt river water splashing in his open eyes and wished he could see anything…he needed to see his brother.

"Sam, gimme yer hand!" Joe stretched out on the river bank and stretched his arm out toward the man. He shone his flashlight on Sam and realized he looked more like a boy, certainly younger than his brother. He grimaced when the light glared into blue-green eyes and then remembered, as Sam didn't even blink, that the poor kid couldn't see. "Sam! Just…reach for my voice!"

Sam sobbed in a breath, swallowing some water as he tried. The icy water had dulled most of the pain he was in, but trying to reach out and up toward this new voice brought a fresh wave of agony that sapped his waning strength. "C-can't," he said miserably and wondered if the man could even hear him, and then he heard three gunshots. "Dean!"

Joe whipped his head over in time to watch one of the beasts hit the ground while the other tackled Dean. "Holy shit! Come on, kid!" He turned back to Sam and stretched his arm out. His fingers slipped and slid over wet bare skin, but he managed to catch hold of a wrist and frowned at the feel of something rough under his hand. He shivered with the water's cold touch and pulled Sam in. He groaned with the effort of just getting the kid's shoulders out of the water. Joe let go of his wrist, shining the flashlight on it and jerked in surprise. Sam's wrist was nothing but mangled, torn flesh that started sluggishly bleeding again even as he watched. "Dayum, son," he said in sympathy.

"Dean."

Joe leaned over to hear Sam's rough voice and heard his brother's name. "He's, uh…he's a little busy. You just hang on now." Joe picked the pistol back up from where he'd set it when trying to reach Sam and turned as Dean's gun went off again from beneath the other creature. He raised, taking aim at the thing's back and couldn't decide if he'd hit Dean or not from there.

Dean shouted in sudden pain as claws raked across his stomach, opening furrows in his skin. "Son of a…bitch!" He punched the buggane in the side of the head with his flashlight, making it snarl and rear back. Dean pulled his other hand with the gun up and fired a shot into the underside of its jaw. Dean didn't wait to see if he killed it. He pulled a leg in and drove a knee into the soft underbelly with all his strength. The buggane went over in a snarl of claws and hair, and Dean rolled, firing twice more into its chest.

"You all in one piece still?" Joe managed to get out, barely able to tear his eyes away from the creature now lying motionless on the ground.

Dean rolled and flopped onto his back, taking a moment to just try and breathe around the burning pain in his stomach. "Yeah…more or less." He groaned and rolled slowly to his knees. "Sam?"

"I got him…more or less." Joe gave a weak smile when Dean looked at him with a glare. He went to the younger man and got a hand under his shoulder. "I don't think he's too happy 'bout hearin' my voice 'stead o' yours."

Dean nodded and hissed a breath between his teeth, trying to stifle the pain. His eyes were locked on his brother still lying half in the water. "You left him in the damn water? It's freezing!"

"You ever tried to pick his ass up? Dayum!" Joe shook his head and helped Dean kneel down next to his stricken brother. "Guy weighs more'n'a wet bear."

Dean snorted. He couldn't help it. "Got a point. Sammy?" He leaned over and brushed water-logged hair from his brother's eyes. "Hang on, ok? Gonna get you outta the water. Sam?" He got a small, exhausted nod and took it for what it was - all Sam had left at that point. He leaned back to take one of his brother's arms, and then Joe's flashlight played along Sam's back. Dean sucked in a shocked breath and felt a new surge of rage for the two dead creatures. "Holy crap."

"That don't look good," Joe observed softly. He shook his head and bent to take the boy's other arm and only then noticed the deep punctures that ringed his bicep. He looked over and saw Dean brushing fingers over similar wounds in Sam's other arm and thought maybe the fact it was dark was a good thing. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what else had happened to the kid while he'd made Dean wait to come after him.

Dean pulled his brother up out of the water to dry ground with Joe's help and sat on his knees with Sam turned on his side in his lap to keep his clawed back from lying on the ground. "Bag. Get the rest of the clothes," Dean told Joe and shivered as Sam dripped freezing water onto his legs. He was still borderline hypothermic himself, although, admittedly there was nothing like a life-and-death struggle with a freaky monster to get the blood pumping. "Hey, buddy." He palmed the side of his brother's head and turned his face up, propping Sam's head on his elbow. "Sammy."

"Dean."

Dean grimaced. His brother's voice was a hoarse, pained whisper. "Yeah. Right here, Sammy. I gotcha. Lemme see your eyes, dude."

Sam blinked and fought the knee-jerk, lifelong need to just curl into his brother and hide until the fear went away. He wasn't a child anymore, no matter how helpless he felt at that moment. "Still c-can't see."

"It's ok. It'll be ok." Dean took the flashlight Joe held out and shined it into Sam's eyes. He sucked in a breath in relief when his brother's pupils dilated just like they should. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and the fact that there was no recognition that Sam could see him or the light glaring into his eyes frightened him. "Goin' to a hospital this time, Sam."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. The sensation of having them open while he couldn't see anything was too disorienting. "Buggane?"

Dean tightened his arm around him while Sam shuddered with the cold. "Feedin' the forest, dude. So's the big lizard."

Sam smiled wearily. "S'good. Sorry I wasn' more help."

"Here." Joe held out the hoodie Dean had found earlier.

"Sit up for a sec, Sam. Gotta check your injuries and warm you up." Dean eased him up so he was sitting and shone the light over him. His jaw clenched at all the open wounds. There were shallow furrows clawed down his back and chest, punctures in his arms, his sides, and Dean snarled seeing the holes in the thighs of Sam's jeans. They'd been bleeding him. He pulled Sam forward to rest his brother's head against his shoulder and looked at the worrisome bite wound in the back of his shoulder. "First aid kit."

"On it." Joe set the hoodie aside and dug through the bag again.

Sam felt like he was going to shake apart with cold. It had eaten through him in the water, and he couldn't seem to stop his arms and legs from twitching. The only thing keeping him from falling apart at that point was his brother - Dean warm and alive and holding onto him and his heart beating under Sam's ear. "Dean." Sam managed to get one hand up, curling his fingers in Dean's flannel, and then jerked back startled with a look of fear on his face when he felt the warm stickiness of blood soaking through the soft fabric. "Dean… y'r hurt."

Dean smiled and rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine, dude. Couple cuts. More worried about you right now." Dean knew he was still bleeding, could feel the warm trickles of blood seeping from the fresh wounds in his stomach, but it was just one more pain to be ignored until he took care of Sam. He felt Sam relax slightly, taking him at his word.

"Gon'be a long walk back to that Jeep o' yers," Joe observed as he held out bandages to Dean and watched him gently cover the worst of the wounds. He smirked. "He ain't walkin' an' yer close to crawlin'."

Sam stirred again, hearing that and tried to push back from his brother's shoulder in renewed concern for him. "Dean? Said…you were al…alright. Wh…how bad?"

"Dammit." Dean glared Joe into silence and pulled Sam back against him. "It's nothing. I'm good. Stop moving."

"Lying," Sam told him but he didn't have the energy to force the issue and collapsed back against Dean.

Dean snorted. "You can kick me for it later when you can see me again." He taped another bandage in place over the deep punctures in his brother's arm with Joe's help and sighed. Sam's back looked like a mummy, covered in bandages, and some of them were spotting with blood as he watched. He realized the cold water had actually slowed or stopped the bleeding, and now, as Sam warmed slowly, it was starting again. "Gotta get you outta here. Gimme that." Dean pointed and Joe handed him the hoodie.

"He gon'be alright?" Joe asked softly and flinched under the fierce look Dean gave him.

"He'll be fine," Dean said surely. He gently leaned Sam back from his shoulder. "Help me hold him up. Shirt, Sam."

Sam nodded and did what he could to help as he felt warm, soft fabric sliding over his arms and then over his head. "C-cold."

"I know, buddy." Dean pulled the hoodie down his brother's chest, hiding the bandages and caught him against his chest when he slumped to the side. "Sam? Sammy?" He put a quick hand to Sam's neck and blew out a breath in relief as he dropped his head into Sam's hair. His heart was beating, though not as fast as Dean would like given everything he'd been through. He knew it was just a matter of time until shock set in. Dean looked over at Joe and shifted his grip on his brother. "Help me get him up."

Joe groaned and nodded. He repacked the duffel first and put it over his shoulder before bending to pull one of Sam's arms over his shoulders. "Ya'll are makin' me hurt just lookin atcha."

Dean attention was focused on getting to his feet with his brother and not just sliding right back to the ground again as his left leg threatened to go out. "Shit." He locked his knee in place and stood for a moment with Sam's weight against his chest. He hated to do it, but they really needed Sam's help to get out. "Sam?" Dean slapped the side of his face lightly, just enough to get his attention he hoped, and smiled when Sam's eyes fluttered open. "Hey, you get those flamingo legs under you for a little longer?"

Sam frowned and then nodded, taking a moment to understand what Dean was asking. He took some of his own weight and then jerked into his brother when he felt unfamiliar hands on his other side. "Shit!

"Whoa! Take it easy!" Dean held Sam steady and nodded at Joe to back off for a second. "Sam? That's Joe, remember? He pulled you out of the river."

Sam groaned and nodded. "S…sorry." He flinched when Joe's unfamiliar hands took his arm again, but he managed to stay calm.

"No big, kid," Joe grunted under the weight and tried to move in unison with the brothers as Dean started them at a slow pace. "Ya'll sure know how to throw together a shindig."

Dean chuckled but said nothing. He was spending all his energy on keeping himself and Sam on their feet. The walk back through the dark forest with no moon overhead to offer any light made Dean feel night-blind, and he figured it had to be a thousand times worse for Sam. They had to stop periodically while Dean roused his brother all over again as Sam couldn't seem to stay awake for long. Blood loss and hypothermia had taken their toll on the younger Winchester and were starting to wear on the older one as well.

"Dean." Joe said sharply and stopped Dean from just blindly walking past the ford with his eyes closed. "You with me?"

Dean stumbled to a stop and snapped his eyes open to look around. He saw the shadow of Crystal Mill against the sky to their right and nodded. "Yeah, sorry." He hefted Sam higher on his shoulders and turned toward the crossing. He'd been moving mechanically, drifting with exhaustion, pain, and blood loss of his own, and felt every measure of his own injuries as they slowly eased Sam over the slippery rocks.

"Twenty minutes, Dean," Joe said, taking a moment to catch his breath on the other side before getting them moving again. "Then you and the giant here can get cozy an' I'll drive ya back to Marble."

"You ain't drivin'." Dean said and made himself straighten up. "I can do it."

Joe snorted. "Son, yer 'bout as handy as a cow on a crutch right now. You ain't drivin' nothin'."

Dean opened his mouth to argue but had to concede the point as his vision swam dangerously. He was running purely on adrenaline and knew it. "You run us off a cliff, I'm gon'be pissed."

"That's why we ain't goin' nowhere's til dawn."

"What? No way! He needs a damn hospital now!" Dean yelled and hung on more tightly when Sam stirred fitfully in their grip.

Joe shook his head firmly. "Nuh-uh, city boy. I know I'm dumber than a box o' rocks on a good day, but even I got enough smarts not to try that road at night."

"Son of a bitch." Dean groaned.

"S'right…Dean," Sam whispered, loosely following the conversation. "I'll b-be…be alright…'til morning." He turned his head up to his brother with a weak smile. "Just have to t-tell me…when it's…morning."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said but it was soft and filled with pride that his little brother was holding up so well in spite of his injuries.

Joe was walking between them, holding up one man on either side, by the time they finally reached the cabins at Crystal City. "Lord…" He groaned as he steadied himself to kick the door open. "…you boys…so dang tall…you fall down…yer halfway home. Shee-it."

Dean snorted and somehow found the energy to walk himself through the door and turn to help with his brother. "C'mon, Sammy." He put an arm around his brother's waist and helped steer him toward the two cots they'd salvaged early in the day in case they had to camp there. "Couple more feet…you can sleep." Dean pulled his brother toward them and raised a brow when Joe went and started pulling the sleeping bags off of both. "Dude, what?"

"That boy ain't fittin' on there." Joe rolled his eyes. "Be more comfy on the floor. Get him over there by the stove."

Dean rolled his eyes, because the man was right, and went over to the old iron stove in the corner, lowering Sam down to the piled sleeping bags Joe hastily laid out. Sam hissed in pain, and Dean got a hand around the back of his neck to squeeze as he sat beside him. "Easy, buddy. We're back in the cabin."

"Gon' go get some wood and get that thing goin'." Joe dropped the bag next to Dean and rummaged around in the boxes nearby until he came up with a couple bottles of water. He brought those over and handed them down. "Prolly oughta get some o' that in 'im if'n you can."

"Thanks." Dean set the bottles aside and helped Sam lay back. He leaned over his face and waved his hand in front of his eyes. "See anything yet?"

Sam shook his head, blinking and then closed them again. "Just f-flashes of l-light." He shook hard and tried to curl around himself. "Friggin c-cold."

"Yeah. This ain't gonna be fun, buddy, but we gotta get these wet pants off you."

Sam groaned. "M'good."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, you're not, but you will be. Just…think of Margaret Thatcher or something."

Sam chuckled weakly and felt the flush creep up his face while his brother unbuckled his belt. He did his best to help Dean get them off, feeling his brother rolling wet denim down his legs.

"Damn." Dean tossed the jeans away and got a look at the five punctures in each of Sam's thighs and took a deep breath to settle his nerves. If the buggane had moved its fingers just a little further in, it would have hit the arteries and Dean would have been retrieving a corpse.

"Dean?" Sam felt a shift in the air next to him, like a shudder, and knew it was Dean.

"It's fine, dude. Try to get some sleep while I finish patching you up." Dean tugged a blanket over his brother's legs to help keep him from freezing and protect a little of his dignity as Joe came back in. Dean tuned him out while he bandaged Sam's legs and rechecked his other wounds. The bandages were starting to turn red with Sam's blood as his body warmed, and that added a whole new level of concern for Dean.

Joe stood over them for a moment, assessing, and then bent to his task, loading wood into the old iron stove and setting it alight. "This oughta keep ya plenty warm for the night, and there's some more kindlin' there to keep 'er goin'."

Dean looked up and frowned. "You goin' somewhere?"

Joe ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Well, now. I reckon yer right, and that kid ain't gonna do well overnight." He gave Dean a lopsided smile.

"I thought you said it's too damn dangerous to drive back down there in the dark?" Dean made to get up, but Joe pushed him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

"I did and it is, but I got me a dirt bike stashed 'bout an hour back toward them punchbowls." Joe grinned. "Shee-it, son. I can ride that baby roun' that mess with mah eyes closed, never mind in the dark."

Dean wanted to argue with him, but a look down at Sam was enough to win him over. "Joe, man. Thanks. "

Joe waved a hand. "Ain't nothin'. I told ya. Jus' doin' what I oughta'a done for the Ranger. Now, you boys keep warm and I'll be back with help."

Dean grabbed his arm as he started to turn away. "Seriously, dude. Thank you. We'd both probably be dead out there somewhere if it weren't for you. You saved our lives…you saved his life. I couldn't have done it alone. I owe you man."

A sad sort of smile flitted across Joe's face. "Don' you worry none 'bout that. You jes' take care o' him, and hold on a bit longer. I'll git some help up here fer ya."

"Be careful!" Dean called as Joe went quickly back outside. "Ok, Sammy." He piled another blanket over his brother and leaned back against the wall next to him so he could keep an eye on him. "You're gonna be fine." Dean wrapped an arm over his bloody, aching stomach and groaned. "We both are."

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean eased up in his hospital bed and looked over at his brother. It had taken some threats on his part to get them in a room together and he smiled as he watched his brother sleep. The doctor had figured out pretty quick that splitting them up didn't make either one of them very cooperative. Sam had punched the guy in the jaw with a lucky swing, considering he couldn't see anything. Dean swung his legs off his bed and sat hunched over his bandaged stomach for a moment, letting himself adjust to the flare of pain before he stood and moved over to Sam's bed. He sat in the padded chair next to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said softly. Sam looked worse in the light of day streaming in through the window. A chopper had arrived an hour after Joe left and airlifted them both to the nearest hospital. Dean swallowed hard. Only his need to stay with his brother had gotten him on the thing; he'd been all for walking back down the damn mountain until Sam had called him.

"You should probably wake up soon, dude. Stop me talkin' to myself." Dean brushed Sam's dark hair off his forehead, careful to avoid the bandages taped over both his eyes. The doctor had explained that both of Sam's retinas had detached with the hard hit he'd taken to the head and assured them after more tests than Dean wanted to think about, that Sam would see again. Dean blew out a breath and was glad his brother had been unconscious for the actual procedure. It had involved injecting a bubble of some gas into each eye to 'push' Sam's retinas back where they belonged. He'd have to keep his head very still for a few days while his retinas reattached naturally.

Dean leaned over him eagerly when Sam moaned softly and Dean put his hand over Sam's forehead to keep him from shifting. "Sammy?"

"Dean?" Sam croaked through a dry throat. He tried to turn his head and frowned when he felt Dean's hand holding him still. "Le'go."

"Nope." Dean smiled. "Remember what they told you before they put you under?" He watched Sam frown and rolled his eyes. "No moving your head for a few days if you wanna see again." Dean took his hand away slowly, nodding when Sam didn't move and grabbed a glass of water and straw from the table. "Not that it wouldn't be fun to drive around with you blind." Dean snorted and held the straw to Sam's lips so he could feel it. "Dude, I could drive naked and you wouldn't know."

"That's disgusting," Sam groaned and sipped gratefully at the water. He frowned and felt the bandages over his eyes pull. "Am I ok? Dean?" He held up a hand and gave a small sigh of relief when it was quickly grasped in Dean's warm hand.

"Yeah, buddy." Dean squeezed his hand and laid it back on the bed, keeping a hold of it. Sam was always the more touchy-feely of the two of them when he was hurt, and Dean would tease him about it…later, when Sam could actually see again and he could finally take a deep breath again. "You were a few pints light and got some nasty punctures to a few muscles, two strained shoulders - oh! And your whole back looks like a friggin' Salvador Dali painting. Dude, that lizard wailed your ass into that tree."

Sam groaned. "That explains why my back hurts that much. Crap."

Dean looked up when the door opened and dropped his free hand back to Sam's head to keep him still. "Hey, doc."

"Dean. Sam's awake?" Dr. Kyle smiled and came to the bed while Dean nodded. "Afternoon, Sam. How are you feeling?"

Sam snorted softly. "Like a blind chew toy. I feel great."

Dr. Kyle chuckled and patted his arm lightly. "That's perfectly normal. Let me just check you over, and remember, move your head as little as possible." He checked under the myriad bandages on his patient, checking his vitals and noting the important things on the chart before he set it aside and looked over at Dean. "You must remember to keep him from moving his head too much for the next three days. We could put blocks…"

"He'll be fine," Dean said surely and felt Sam squeeze his hand in agreement. He didn't want to see him restrained like that either. "I'll make sure of it." He looked over at his brother and back to the doctor. "Do you think you could find the guy that saved us for me? Said his name was Joe." Dean smiled. "I'd really like to buy the guy a beer or something."

Dr. Kyle's eyes rose up his head. "Joe? Kind of short man, blonde hair, beard?"

Dean nodded and smiled more widely. "Yeah, that's him. Is he here? Aw, man, did he get hurt driving that damn road at night for us?"

Dr. Kyle shook his head. "Dean, I…it must have been someone else." He raised a hand when Dean opened his mouth. "A ranger and Joe McCardy were both killed in Crystal City two days ago. The locals found Joe's body an hour after the ranger's turned up. I don't think anyone has the name of the person who called in your emergency rescue."

Sam jerked in surprise and would have moved his head if not for Dean's hand holding him still. "Wait…then who?" He trailed off as the implication hit home.

Dean stared hard at the doctor. "You're sure? Dude was wearing this beat up overcoat and coveralls, kinda smelled like he hadn't bathed in a couple weeks, murders the English language?"

Dr. Kyle smiled sadly. "That was him. I can't imagine who it was that helped you, and given the condition you both came here in, I'm not surprised your memories are a little jumbled. Just take some time. It'll come back to you." He pointed a stern finger at Dean. "You get back in your bed. You need to stay off that leg or the torn ligament is never going to heal properly."

"I'll make him." Sam said softly and waited in his personal darkness, listening to the door close before he sucked in a deep breath. "He was dead."

Dean nodded at sat in stunned silence for a moment. "So…the whole time the guy was…practically carrying us, dragged you from the water, got help…"

"He said it." Sam took in a shaking breath. "He said he failed the ranger, that he ran, and he was…making up for it." He was thankful for Dean's hand still on his head. It gave him comfort to feel the slight tremor there. "It's like he was…doing penance or something."

"The ahuizotl killed him, and he stuck around to save the next poor sucker that got stuck in its path." Dean shook his head in wonder and leaned back. "Damn."

"Hey, Dean?" Sam squeezed his brother's hand again. "When I'm…you know, when I can see again, can we go back up and just…make sure he's moved on?"

"Yeah, Sammy. We will." Dean nodded. "And we still have that stupid heart to burn, too. Damn thing better not come back to life in the meantime. I really do not want to do that again…ever." He let go of Sam's hand and got back to his feet with a groan for his stomach and his leg. "Go back to sleep or something unless you wanna listen to me try and get skinnimax on this ancient tv."

Sam raised a hand and flipped him off. "I'm good. Thanks."

Dean brushed his hand over Sam's forehead and went back to his own bed, overcome with sadness for the mountain man that had come back from the dead to save them. He laid back down and rolled to his side to keep an eye on Sam and sent a silent thank-you to Joe, wherever he was, for his brother's life. "Stop twitching or I'm gonna sit on your head."

Sam blew out an irritated breath. "Shut up, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean grinned while his world slowly slipped back into place.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Epilogue**

"Stop fidgeting." Dean slapped his little brother's hand away from his face for the third time. The curtains were drawn in the motel room and only the bathroom light was on shedding a narrow beam over them as he worked.

Sam blew out a breath in frustration. "Can't. Get them off already." They had been released from the hospital four days ago, and Sam had been almost counting the hours until they could take the bandages off his eyes and let him, hopefully, see again. Fear had been warring with that hope on a constant loop in his brain the entire time, and he had reached the point where he just wanted it over, whatever the ultimate outcome. He just needed to KNOW one way or the other. Of course, that could not keep his hands from trembling slightly, part of him still fearing the worst.

"Shuddup," Dean peeled the surgical tape off his brother's forehead and was every bit as anxious to find out if the procedure had worked as advertised. He didn't know exactly what they would do if Sam's vision was gone forever or was left bad enough to keep him from hunting, but Dean had already made a promise to himself that, whatever happened, he wasn't leaving Sam behind…even if it meant leaving the life he loved and Dad's quest for revenge, and Sam would just have to be ok with that. It had always been his job to look out for his little brother, and that wasn't about to change no matter what happened in the next few minutes. "Ok, keep your eyes closed."

Sam sighed and nodded slightly, trying to steel himself to face whatever came next. The soft tone of his brother's voice made it clear that Dean was scared, too, and that made him feel better about the cold sweat breaking out all over his body as Dean's fingers slipped carefully between the heavy pads and his eyes. "They're closed. Do it."

"On three. One. Two…" Dean pulled the gauze away slowly and set them aside, keeping his eyes glued to his brother's face as he did and put his hands back to the side of Sam's face. Dean brushed his thumbs in front of the closed lids and saw Sam suck in a shuddery breath and felt him tremble. "Sam?"

"I saw that." Sam whispered and felt tears well up under his eyelids. "The…the shadow when you moved your fingers. I think…I saw it."

Dean smiled and moved his left hand so it blocked the bathroom light from landing directly on his eyes. "Ok, open them. Slow."

Sam peeled his eyes open a little at a time. They felt gritty, like he'd slept for too long, and at first, as he blinked, there was nothing but blackness and maybe some hints of grey, and despair flowed through him. Then he blinked again, and again, and the fuzzy image of his brother's worry-lined face started to come into focus. His breath hitched in his chest as he met and caught the deep green of Dean's eyes in the bathroom light and the tears won out to spill down his cheeks while Dean grinned.

"Ok. Ok, take a breath," Dean soothed, knowing he was grinning like an idiot and didn't care. He'd seen the moment Sam's eyes had found his and that was pretty much the best damn feeling he'd had in a long, long time. It didn't surprise him when he had an armful of little brother a moment later, nor did the hiccupping sobs he could feel Sam letting out as Dean wrapped his arms around his shoulders and held on. He got it. And if his own eyes suddenly felt a bit moist, well, his brother was in no shape to notice. This was one chick-flick he was all for. Sam had been bitchy and closed off for a week while he tried to not drown in fear of being blind for good, and now it was all coming out. "I gotcha, little brother."

Sam tried not to be a complete girl about it, he really did it, but he felt like he'd been holding his breath for days and could finally breathe again. He turned his face down into his brother's shirt and was grateful Dean wasn't being a dick about being cried on…yet. Sam took a few deep, shaking breaths to get back some control and finally leaned back to give his brother a watery grin. "Best thing I ever saw…your ugly-ass face."

Dean snorted and slapped the back of Sam's head with light, barely-there tap that did little more than ruffle hair. Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders to hold him at arm's length and look at him. "How is it? I mean, blurry? What?"

Sam blinked several times as he looked slowly around and the dimly-lit motel room began to come into focus. He could see the maroon covered beds, the giant polka-dot wallpaper and the ridiculous room divider with big clear, plastic ducks suspended on beaded poles between them and the bathroom. He smiled and looked back at Dean. "I think…think I'm ok. Turn another light on."

"Cover your eyes first." Dean told him firmly and went to the light by the beds. He looked back and scowled. "I mean it, dude. We're not takin' chances here. Cover 'em."

Sam smirked and put a hand in front of his eyes. He closed them quickly as the light flashed on and covered them for real as it sent a dull thud of pain through his head. He jumped when he felt Dean's hands on his shoulders again. "I'm good."

"Uh huh." Dean didn't believe him and put himself between Sam and the light. "The doc said you'd be light sensitive for a while." Dean had a bottle of prescription painkillers in his bag that Dr. Kyle had given him with the sure warning that Sam would need them as he'd likely be plagued with headaches for a few weeks while his eyes readjusted. "Take it slow."

Sam took his hand away, leaving his eyes closed and slowly cracked them open. He squinted, unaccustomed to one small lamp seeming to be that bright. An instant headache started behind his eyes but he smiled. The brighter light showed him that he was seeing everything almost clearly. "Things are kinda…fuzzy around the edges, but yeah…yeah; it's good."

Dean grinned again and gave Sam's neck a squeeze before he stepped back. "Don't look directly at the lamp for a while and leave the curtains closed." It was noon and blue skies outside meant it was bright and sunny. He went to the table and picked up the little bag next to Sam's laptop. "You're gonna need these for a while." Dean smirked and tossed the bag to his brother, chuckling when Sam caught it clumsily and another tear escaped to roll down his little brother's face.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his cheek while he flushed with embarrassment and looked at the bag. He unrolled it and pulled out a pair of dark, wrap-a-round sunglasses. "Nice. Thanks, Dean." Sam slipped them on and immediately felt a little relief from the pounding headache the light had given him.

Dean nodded and went to his bag to get the pain pills. He knew what that particular frown on Sam's face meant and the stubborn jackass wasn't going to tell him his head hurt. "Here. Take two of these and then go take a shower. You stink."

Sam chuckled and eyed the pill bottle. He considered arguing but the look on Dean's face said he wasn't going to get anywhere and he opened it to shake a couple out. He sniffed his own shoulder and grimaced. "You ever try taking a shower with your eyes closed the whole time? It sucks, dude."

Dean laughed and caught the bottle when Sam tossed it back. He dropped onto the end of his bed as Sam went into the bathroom and closed the door and rested his head in his hands for a moment. He'd been terrified that Sam's vision wouldn't come back. The relief was exhausting and he gave himself a few minutes to fall apart while Sam showered before he pulled himself back together. He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair and blew out a breath. "That's enough of that."

Dean stood and went to the bathroom door, cracking it open and letting steam roll out. "Sam! I'm gonna go grab food. Stay in the room, dude. It's too bright out there yet."

"I'll be fine," Sam called over the shower and sighed in relief when the door closed again. He leaned his forehead against the tiles again and let the water run over the top of his head. Dean had almost caught him in another crying jag and he rolled his eyes. "Suck it up already," he told himself softly and leaned back to let the water wash away the last of his tears.

Sam felt better than he had in a while when he came back out into the room with a towel wrapped around his hips. The numerous wounds the buggane had given him were still healing and most of his body was covered in a variety of colorful bruises. Dean had clipped most of his stitches out yesterday as they'd started to pull uncomfortably and Sam ran his fingers softly over the closed punctures in his thigh. "Crap," he said softly. Dean hadn't told him just how close he came to bleeding out.

He pulled his duffel out from under the bed and thought it would be a while before he took being able to choose his own clothes for granted again. Sam dressed with a smile and was at the table turning on his laptop when Dean cracked the door open.

"Shades on and look away, Sam!" Dean called in a no-nonsense tone.

Sam snorted but didn't argue. The shaft of sunlight falling across the beds made him slam his eyes closed. "Hang on!" He dodged back to the bathroom, bouncing off the doorframe with a curse and grabbed the sunglasses.

Dean swung the door open just far enough to ease inside and closed it quick. He'd heard Sam move and knew where he was. "You ok?" he asked as Sam came out of the bathroom with his sunglasses in place and a hand wrapped around his still healing right shoulder.

"Yeah. Just not as graceful as I'm used to." Sam said ruefully and sat back at the table.

Dean grinned and set the bag of food down. "Dude, you're still your usual graceful self. Trust me." He chuckled when Sam flipped him a finger.

"Whatever." Sam took the bag and opened, enjoying being able to SEE what he was going to eat for a change. Not that Dean had pulled too many pranks on him with food; only once in fact, yesterday, and Sam realized it had been when he was curled over his knees in his bed and hadn't spoken for an hour. Sam smirked and handed the way too thick, foil wrapped burger he took out to Dean, the brother who had snapped him out of his funk the best way he knew how.

"Dude, these burgers are like a food group," Dean said happily as he sat and unwrapped his.

Sam chuckled and smiled when he came out with a salad container and two boxes of fries. "Nice."

"You know, the salad doesn't cancel out the fries." Dean smirked at him and bit into his burger.

"You know, lifting a beer doesn't cancel out that heart attack in a wrapper?" Sam asked and dropped his sunglasses down his nose to wink at his brother and laugh.

"Smartass," Dean growled but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Sam had eaten most of the salad, all his fries, and was stealing some of his brother's before finally leaning back after dodging a slap to his hand with a grin. "We need to go back up to Crystal."

Dean sobered a little and nodded. "Yeah. Lizard-man's heart needs burning."

"And I really want to make sure Joe moves on, you know?" Sam owed the spirit his life and his brother's. "I don't like the idea of him just…just stuck up there trying to atone forever."

"Well." Dean grabbed a beer and took a long drink. "If Joe is still up there and won't leave, they buried him three days ago." He smiled. "I called Marble and checked. Finding his grave'll be easy if we have to send him on ourselves."

Sam nodded and smiled. "I think he'll go if we just talk to him, convince him to let go and cross over."

"Hope so." Dean really did.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Sam walked out of the forest path behind Crystal Mill and shaded his already protected eyes against the sun as he looked at the structure. He glanced back and smirked as Dean limped into view. His left leg still wasn't a hundred percent and would need another week before Dean had easy use of it again. A torn ligament was nothing to mess with, especially in their line of work.

"Stop starin' at me," Dean snarled when he looked up and then laughed. "On second thought, go ahead. Stare away, dude."

Sam smiled broadly and waited for his brother. "Come on." He didn't bother asking. Sam pulled one of Dean's arms over his shoulders and ignored the snarled curse. "All we need is for you to go down and tear the other one so stop whining."

Dean glared but it was half-hearted. "Fine; but I'm only humoring you." The truth was, the walk from the cabins where they had parked once more had left his leg close to crumpling. He wouldn't admit it, though, and he'd grit his teeth for as long as he needed. Dean was just relieved he didn't need his left leg to drive back. "It's up around the side there."

Sam nodded and helped him up the bedrock. Sam's eyes went wide behind his sunglasses as they rounded the back of the mill and he got a good look at the ahuizotl's carcass. "Holy crap! How'd you kill that thing on your own without a gun?"

Dean grinned as they came up next to its back end and he stopped Sam from getting near the tail even though it was probably long safe. He didn't want to take any chances. "It was easy. I put out both eyes and stabbed it in the heart while it was bottlenecked in the door."

"Damn, Dean." Sam shook his head in admiration. There were moments when he couldn't help but be a little bit in awe of the way his big brother just seemed to be born to this life.

"Dude, I was Conan and you missed it."

Sam laughed and walked wide around the ahuizotl, trying to decide the best way to get at its chest and dig out the heart. "Well, consider me suitably impressed. Hang on."

Dean watched him start to climb up the creature's back and groaned. "Dude, don't reopen a damn wound."

Sam waved a hand at him. "I'm not planning on wrestling it. I'm good." He swung his legs over the head and into the door, swallowing the groan as the wounds in his thighs pulled, and he slid down the head into the mill. "HOLY crap!"

"Sam?" Dean forgot about the pain in his leg with his brother's startled exclamation and gave an awkward jump onto the dead monster's back.

"It's ok!" Sam called and stuck his head out the door. He smiled a little sheepishly. "Uh…Joe sort of…popped up in front of me."

"Geez, man." Dean groaned and slid back down to the ground. "Don't do that me."

"Hey, Dean."

Dean turned quickly and found Joe standing behind him with a smile. "Joe. Man, no offense but I was hoping you wouldn't be here."

"Dean!" Sam leaned back out and held out a bag. "He found our gear."

"Say what?" Dean reached up and took the bag. He pulled it down, looked inside and smiled as he pulled out his Desert Eagle. He raised a brow to the very alive-looking spirit. "You do this?"

"Kinda figured you boys'd come back 'n you wouldn't wanna be searchin' the whole damn forest for 'em." Joe shrugged.

"Thanks, man." Dean set the bag down and then jumped hard enough that his bad leg gave out when the ahuizotl's body against his back gave a violent twitch. "Sam!"

"That was me!" Sam yelled and shoved at the head again with a loud yell until it finally cleared the door and rolled to the side of the mill. He staggered out and held his hands up. "Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't think you were leaning on the thing."

Dean glared up at him and took a steadying breath. "That thing already knocked me cold once after it was already dead. Shit."

"Up ya' go, son." Joe bent and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling the younger man to his feet. "You two spend way too much time on yer keisters, ya know that?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, we kinda do some days. Joe?" He held out a hand to the man and took in the blonde hair, grizzled beard, and weather-lined face that smiled at him. "We wanted to thank you. You saved our lives." Sam smiled. "I know I'd be dead right now if you hadn't come back when you did, but…" Sam trailed off and looked over at Dean who shrugged in a way that meant 'go for it'. "…you should move on now. You saved us. You don't need to wait here anymore."

Joe shook his head. "Cain't leave, Sam. Figure I still owe the ranger."

"I know he doesn't blame you," Sam said fervently. "This thing…" and Sam thumped a fist into the ahuizotl's side, "…killed you just like it killed him. Whatever you think you've got to atone for, you already did with us."

Dean stepped over and put a hand on the spirit's solid shoulder. "Man, you saved two lives. You've done enough. I know it."

"We can't just leave you stuck here forever," Sam added softly and pulled the sunglasses off his face to meet Joe's blue eyes. "I'm alive and I can see…because of you. You deserve to rest now, Joe. Please."

"He's gonna be a big girl about it if you don't, man," Dean said and gave the dead man a lopsided smile. "Don't do that to me."

Joe chuckled and looked between the two men and then he sighed. "Reckon yer' right. Ol' Ranger Grady wouldn' want me hauntin' his woods." He rolled his eyes. "Probably thinks I'm thievin' or somethin' up there." He looked around a little wistfully. "Gonna miss this place, though. Wasn't really ready to git dead yet, but...ah, well. Guess it's 'bout time to see what's what on th' other side. See if my granny was right after all."

Joe looked back at the boys, and Dean stared in surprise when he was pulled into a hug and snorted when the mountain man caught his brother in one as well before standing back. "Thank you, Joe. Really, man."

"Thanks," Sam smiled and watched as a ray of sunlight seemed to come down and touch all that disorderly blonde hair. The light flared briefly and then Joe was gone as Sam slammed his eyes closed and swayed with a sudden piercing headache. "Ok…ow. Ow, dammit."

Dean chuckled softly with relief and took Sam's shoulder. "Come on, sit." He took the forgotten sunglasses from his brother's hand and popped them back on his face before he pushed Sam down to sit against the side of the mill. Dean swung his backpack off his shoulder. He'd come prepared as he pulled out a bottle of water and the pain pills. "Here. Take these and I'll get started here."

Sam didn't open his eyes, just held out his hands and felt Dean put the items into them. "Thanks." He smiled in spite of the flush of pain from his eyes. "I'm glad we don't have to go dig him up. Really glad he went on his own."

"Me too, Sammy." Dean smiled and took a sharp knife from the bag before turning to the ahuizotl's body. He shook out his leg and put his shoulder to the thing's side, giving a shove to heel it over so he could reach its chest. "That dude was pretty cool for a dead guy."

Sam chuckled and set the water bottle aside as he swallowed the pills. He opened his eyes behind the dark lenses to watch his brother carving into the giant lizard and smiled because nothing had ever looked so damn good.

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_The End…_

**Shee 1 Original Prompt** : _Season One...monster/Demon...a fight scene in woods with baddie of your choice. Sam thrown into tree and hits head hard. When he comes too monster/demon has taken Dean off somewhere and Sam is blind, disorientated and confused. He wanders off into the woods and has his own troubles to deal with (maybe some vamps). Can Dean gank baddie and find Sam in time? Carte Blanche with the torture/torment of Sam._


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